The next few days were spent cramming everything I could into my head.
Magical theory, spellcasting fundamentals, the politics of the Academy—anything I might need to fake my way through student life. I memorized key figures, faculty names, and the general structure of courses. If someone called on me, I had to at least pretend to struggle through the material like everyone else–even as fast as I was learning, I felt like it wouldn't take much 'pretending' to look as though I was struggling.
My connection to the shadows hadn't weakened, but learning structured magic was different. It required focus, specific hand movements, and spoken incantations. It was slower than what I was used to. Less instinctive.
I wasn't bad at it—I picked it up fast enough—but I hated how inefficient it felt. I just wanted to look at my enemy, appear in their blind spot, and make them dead… Y'know, like a normal murderer.
