The air in the Tranquility Garden grew cold as Saguna's footsteps faded into the distance. Twilight deepened to dusk, the last rays of sunlight vanishing beyond the Academy walls. Osa remained crouched beside Radji's slumped form, his hands hovering uselessly over the shadow tendrils that continued to wrap around his friend's body.
Each time Osa tried to touch the darkness directly, his fingers passed through it as if it were smoke, yet it maintained its grip on Radji with terrible strength. The shadow pulsed with a sickly reddish glow at its core, like a malformed heart beating in triumph. Radji's skin had turned a sickly gray, his lips taking on a blue tint. His chest barely moved with each shallow breath.
"Radji," Osa called, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Can you hear me?"
Radji's eyelids fluttered, but he made no response. His breathing had grown so shallow that Osa had to lean close to confirm he was still alive. Dark veins had spread across Radji's skin where the shadow touched him, creating a web-like pattern that reminded Osa of frost on a window—except these patterns were black as night, pulsing slightly with each labored breath Radji took.
Osa glanced toward the sealed well from which the shadow entity had emerged. In the deepening darkness, it seemed to watch him, a yawning mouth ready to swallow more victims. The old stories his grandmother had told him as a child came rushing back—tales of the hungry shadow, evil spirits that stole the warmth and vitality from the living.
"You can't have him," Osa said, his voice growing stronger. "Whatever you are, he's not yours to take."
The shadow gave no sign of understanding or caring about his declaration. Its tendrils continued to spread, climbing higher up Radji's torso, reaching for his throat.
Osa's mind raced. He'd promised to stay, but what could he actually do against this thing? He remembered the water serpent's warning before it disappeared: The Breathless One stirs in the spaces between. It hungers for what it cannot have—life, breath, warmth.
Was that what this shadow wanted? Was it feeding on Radji's breath, his life energy?
Desperate, Osa turned back to the fountain. During his meditation, he connected with the water, making it respond to his will. Could he do it again? His mark burned against his chest, not painful but urgent, as if reminding him of some dormant power he had yet to fully grasp.
He reached his hand toward the fountain, concentrating as hard as he could. Move. Please move.
The water rippled slightly but stayed in the basin. Osa clenched his jaw in frustration. The mark on his chest burned hotter, as if responding to his desperation.
"Come on," he muttered, focusing harder. The water sloshed against the sides, but still wouldn't rise as it had during his meditation.
Meanwhile, the shadow continued to wrap around Radji. The tendrils had reached his shoulders now, coiling around his neck like dark vines. Osa could see Radji's breathing becoming more labored, his lips turning a deeper blue.
Panic rose in his chest. If he couldn't command the water as before, what else could he try? Fighting the shadow directly seemed impossible—it had no solid form to hit or grab.
"Radji," Osa called, his voice echoing in the thickening air. "Radji, you need to fight this!"
There was no response. Radji remained unconscious, his head lolled to the side as the shadow tightened its grip.
Osa closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the fountain, trying to recapture that perfect synchronization he had experienced earlier. He imagined the water rising at his command, imagined it forming a protective barrier around Radji.
Nothing happened.
Opening his eyes, Osa saw the water still flowing normally in the fountain, untouched by his efforts. The mark on his chest had cooled, as if retreating from his failed attempt.
A shadow tendril suddenly lashed out toward Osa, faster than he could react. It wrapped around his wrist, cold as winter ice. Immediately, Osa felt a draining sensation, as if something essential was being pulled from his body. His vision darkened at the edges, and a bone-deep chill spread from the point of contact.
With a cry, he wrenched his arm free, stumbling backward. The shadow tendril recoiled, but Osa could see that it had grown slightly larger. Whatever this entity was, it fed on life energy—on warmth and vitality.
Breathing heavily, Osa looked at Radji again. His friend's skin had taken on a grayish color, and the dark veins had spread to his neck. The shadow was killing him, slowly but surely, draining him just as it had tried to drain Osa.
Where was Saguna? Has five minutes passed already? It felt like an eternity.
A weak sound escaped Radji's lips—not quite words, but enough to show he was still fighting, still clinging to consciousness despite the shadow's grip.
Giving up on controlling the fountain, Osa knelt beside Radji. After a moment's hesitation, he placed his hands directly on Radji's shoulders, where the shadow tendrils were thickest.
The moment his skin touched the darkness, freezing cold shot through his fingers, racing up his arms like lightning. Osa gasped but didn't pull away. The mark on his chest flared with heat, sending waves of warmth through his body to fight the invasive cold.
"I don't know if you can hear me," Osa said through gritted teeth, "but I'm not letting this thing take you."
As he spoke, something unexpected happened. Where his hands touched the shadow, small drops of water began to form, like dew on a cold surface. The water gathered into larger drops that seemed to push back the darkness. Everywhere the water touched, the shadow hissed and pulled back slightly, like oil in a hot pan.
Osa stared in amazement. He wasn't controlling the water directly—it was responding to his touch, to his presence. The mark on his chest pulsed in rhythm with his racing heartbeat, each pulse sending more warmth down his arms.
He pressed his hands more firmly against Radji's shoulders, focusing on the feeling of connection between them. The cool, flowing sensation he'd experienced when touching Radji earlier returned, stronger now, more purposeful. Water formed more quickly around his fingers, creating a thin, protective layer between Radji's skin and the shadow tendrils.
The shadow reacted violently. It writhed and pulsed, making a deep, guttural sound that raised the hairs on Osa's neck. More tendrils shot out from the main mass, wrapping around Osa's wrists, trying to pull his hands away.
Osa cried out as the cold burned his skin, but kept his grip on Radji's shoulders. The moisture around his hands spread, creating tiny streams across Radji's skin that followed the same patterns as the dark lines. Wherever water met shadow, the darkness retreated slightly, creating small gaps. It wasn't enough to drive the shadow away completely, but it seemed to slow its advance.
Osa felt a small spark of hope. If he could hold it back long enough for Saguna to return with help, maybe Radji would survive.
But the shadow wasn't giving up easily. The tendrils around Osa's wrists tightened painfully, the cold becoming so intense that his hands began to go numb. Worse, he noticed with growing horror that the shadow seemed to be learning, adapting. Where water had pushed it back moments before, the shadow now began to flow around the moisture, finding unwarded paths to continue consuming Radji.
"Hell no!" Osa shouted, his voice breaking. "I'll tear you apart before you can consume him!"
Memories flashed through his mind—Radji's meticulous notes, his reluctant smile when Osa had teased him, his unexpected courage when facing Kiran Emberil. Though they'd only known each other for two days, something about their connection felt ancient, as if their souls had recognized each other across lifetimes.
Desperation gave way to determination. If he couldn't command the water as before, perhaps he could offer something of himself instead.
"Take from me," Osa whispered, leaning closer to the shadow. "Take my warmth instead of his."
The shadow pulsed, its tendrils loosening slightly around Radji's throat as if considering the offer. The reddish glow at its core brightened with what Osa recognized as hunger.
"That's right," he continued, holding his free hand out toward the darkness. "I'm stronger. More vital. Better feeding."
A tendril cautiously extended toward Osa's outstretched palm. The moment it made contact, Osa gasped at the bone-deep cold that shot through him. It was like plunging his hand into winter ocean waters, the cold so intense it burned. The mark on his chest flared in response, sending waves of heat to combat the invasive chill.
The shadow seemed to hesitate, caught between two potential victims. Osa could feel it testing him, probing for weakness. He gritted his teeth against the draining sensation and pressed his other hand more firmly against Radji's shoulder.
"Hold on," he muttered, focusing on the connection between them. "Fight this with me."
To his amazement, the mark on Radji's forearm began to glow faintly beneath his sleeve. The ground beneath them trembled slightly, as if responding to Radji's unconscious distress. Small pebbles in the garden path rattled against each other, and dust rose in tiny spirals around them.
The shadow drew back slightly, its tendrils unwinding from Radji's throat as more reached toward Osa. He could feel it feeding on him now, drawing warmth and energy from his body with increasing intensity. His vision darkened at the edges, and his limbs grew heavy.
"That's it," he whispered, watching as the shadow's hold on Radji continued to loosen. "Come to me instead."
But the entity was greedy. Instead of fully releasing Radji, it maintained its grip on both of them, feeding from two sources simultaneously. Osa realized with sinking horror that his plan was failing—the shadow would simply consume them both.
His strength ebbing, Osa looked desperately around the garden. The twilight had deepened to near darkness, with only the faint glow from distant Academy windows providing any illumination. The fountain continued its steady flow, indifferent to their plight.
The fountain. Water.
His gaze fixed on the flowing water, Osa made one final attempt. Not trying to control it this time, but to connect with it, as he had during meditation. He focused on the sound of the water, on its endless movement, on the memory of the water serpent's voice.
Water seeks earth.
The phrase from the ancient text they'd read earlier echoed in his mind. Water seeks earth—just as he and Radji were connected.
"Please," Osa whispered, the word barely audible as the shadow continued to drain him. "Help us."
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, so subtle he almost missed it, the fountain's flow changed. Instead of falling in a predictable pattern, the water began to stream toward them, defying gravity to flow across the garden path in a thin stream.
The water reached them just as Osa's consciousness began to fade. It pooled around Radji first, encircling his body in a protective ring that the shadow tendrils could not cross. Where water touched darkness, the shadow hissed and pulled back as if burned.
Emboldened, the water flowed faster, thicker, surrounding both Osa and Radji in a widening circle. The shadow writhed in apparent pain, its tendrils recoiling from the advancing water.
Osa felt the drain on his energy lessen as the shadow's grip weakened. The mark on his chest pulsed in time with the flowing water, each beat sending renewed strength through his body. The water wasn't just protecting them; it was somehow returning what the shadow had stolen.
The air around them grew warmer, the unnatural chill of the shadow's presence receding. Above the sealed well, the dark entity roiled like storm clouds, its reddish core pulsing with what Osa sensed was fury rather than hunger now.
With a final, hissing screech, the shadow retreated fully from both Osa and Radji, flowing back toward the well in a dark wave. It seeped through the cracks around the stone lid, disappearing from sight.
Osa collapsed beside Radji, his strength utterly spent. The water that had saved them receded, flowing back to the fountain in gentle streams. The mark on his chest cooled to a comfortable warmth, like embers after a fire.
Radji remained unconscious, but Osa could see the dark veins beginning to fade from his skin. His breathing remained shallow but more regular than before. He was alive—for now.
"Radji," Osa whispered, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. "Can you hear me?"
There was no response, but Osa thought he saw Radji's eyelids flutter slightly.
The sound of running footsteps brought Osa's head up.