Shadows of Change (Arcanum Academy #1)

48. Darian

The sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows of my private quarters casts kaleidoscope patterns across the floor, but does nothing to warm the chill that's settled in my bones. It’s not just the cold of the room—it’s the icy weight of doubt and duty pressing down on me, seeping into my very core. Every step I take feels heavier, as though my body is fighting against the inevitability of what I must do. I pace restlessly, my perfectly polished shoes clicking against the stone floor. Each step leaves a faint trace of shadow, a reminder of power that isn't truly mine—power borrowed from a source I barely understand, one that feels more like a curse than a gift. It clings to me, insidious and cold, as though waiting for the perfect moment to claim something I haven't yet realized I've lost.

"Pull yourself together," I mutter, running a hand through my immaculate hair. The mirror shows my reflection—perfect, controlled, everything a proper agent should be. Yet it feels like a mask I can barely hold together, a fragile shell hiding the cracks beneath. The perfection I see doesn’t comfort me; it suffocates, reminding me of the expectations I can never truly escape. But my eyes betray me, haunted by what I have to do. "You have a job to do. Alekir's counting on you."

But the memory of Kaia's smile, the way her eyes light up when she laughs, keeps intruding on my carefully constructed plans. The way her shadows dance when she's happy, so different from the corrupted darkness Alekir commands. I grab a nearby vase, hurling it against the wall with a satisfying crash. The shadows in the room ripple at the violence, hungry and eager.

"Damn it all!" I shout to the empty room. "Why did she have to be... her?"

A memory surfaces unbidden—her laughter echoing in the training grounds, her shadows curling around her like a protective shroud. I’d watched from a distance, telling myself it was part of the mission, but the ache in my chest had been real. And that’s the problem: it still is.

I sink into a plush armchair, my head in my hands. The weight of my mission, of Alekir's expectations, presses down on me like a physical force. The shadow mark on my chest burns coldly, a constant reminder of my oath. But for the first time in years, I'm questioning everything.

A knock at the door startles me from my brooding. "What?" I snap, quickly composing my features into their usual mask of cool indifference. The shadows retreat to their corners, well-trained.

A trembling first-year pokes his head in. His eyes dart around the room, clearly sensing something off but unable to identify what. "M-Mr. Luthar? You're needed in the headmaster's office."

I nod curtly, dismissing the boy with a wave. As I straighten my tie and head for the door, I can't shake the feeling that I'm balancing on a knife's edge. One wrong move, and everything could come crashing down.

But which move is the right one? That's the question that haunts me with every step.

I spot her across the courtyard, her golden hair catching the late afternoon sun like a beacon. The amethyst necklace at her throat pulses faintly, its rhythm seeming to mock my own heartbeat. My shadow mark burns beneath my shirt, responding to its power.

Kaia .

I hesitate for a split second before striding towards her, my face a carefully composed mask of casual charm.

"Kaia," I call out, my voice smooth as silk despite the turmoil inside. "Can we talk?" She whirls to face me, those mesmerizing violet eyes narrowing with suspicion. Her shadows—so much more alive, more real than Alekir's corrupted versions—coil protectively around her feet. I spot the one Finn calls "Bob" shifting into a defensive position. The others follow suit, creating a subtle barrier between us. One shadow darts forward, almost touching the edge of mine before recoiling sharply, like it’s tasted something bitter. The others ripple in response, their movements sharper now, more deliberate.

They know.

"What do you want, Darian?" The sharp edge in her voice cuts deeper than I care to admit. Mouse lets out a low growl from his perch on a nearby bench.

I hold up my hands in a placating gesture, noting how her shadows track every movement. "Just to talk. I know things have been... tense between us lately."

Kaia's shadows ripple, their edges sharpening like blades with a faint hiss, as if the very air protests their movements. The shimmer along their forms catches the waning sunlight, giving them an almost metallic gleam, poised and deadly. Another one seems to be taking notes on my every gesture.

"Tense? That's putting it mildly, don't you think?"

I swallow hard, torn between the mission pounding in my head and the unexpected ache in my chest. My shadows pulse faintly under my skin, restless and uneasy. When hers shift, mine recoil slightly, their corrupted edges no match for the pure, fluid power radiating from her. It's like they're afraid—of her or of what they can never be.

"Look, I know I've made mistakes. But there's so much you don't understand about what's really going on here."

"Oh? And I suppose you're going to enlighten me?" Her sarcasm is biting, but I catch a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. The chaotic shadow swirls around her ankles, mirroring her conflicted emotions.

I take a step closer, lowering my voice. The shadows in the courtyard lengthen as the sun dips lower, and I feel my power strengthening with the approaching darkness. "I could, if you'd let me. There are forces at work here bigger than either of us, Kaia. Dangers you can't even imagine."

For a moment, I see uncertainty cross her face. Her shadows waver, their aggressive edges softening slightly. It's all I can do not to reach out and touch her, to pull her close and forget about everything else.

The weight of my duty coils around my throat, tightening with every breath. The shadow mark flares again, a cold reminder that hesitation isn’t an option.