The night wind slipped through the arrow slits of the eastern tower, carrying whispers and echoes from a palace that never truly slept. Kaelian crouched in the shadows of a hidden stairwell, slowly unrolling the parchment he had stolen from the forbidden wing of the Grand Library.
He should never have had it.
The title, half-erased by time, hinted at long-forgotten arts: "Fragment of the Obscure Art – Vol. I: Ethereal Transfusion."
It was a risk. Another one.
But Kaelian knew the truth now—outwitting his enemies was no longer enough. If he wanted to survive, he had to venture into places even his rivals feared.
****
Since discovering the secret arena beneath the Academy, Kaelian had come to understand one thing: true power was never found in the light. While heirs and prodigies dueled for favor and titles above ground, a different game played beneath their feet—older, darker, more lethal.
Down there, forbidden spells were traded like coin, whispered like scandal. And Kaelian? He was still an observer.
But that was about to change.
He murmured the first incantation, his voice low and slow, modulating his breath to match the resonance of the vital flow—that invisible current of bloodline energy only the initiated could sense.
A ripple of black shimmered across his fingers.
It felt smooth to the touch.
But cold—cold to the soul.
Forbidden magic had no dazzling colors, no radiant bursts. It was subtle. Silent. Deadly.
The spell he'd chosen was relatively simple: Temporary Sensory Amplification. According to the scroll, its effect lasted less than two minutes but allowed the caster to hear heartbeats through walls, to sense hostile intent several meters away.
Kaelian rose slowly.
It was time to test it.
****
He slipped out of the tower, navigating the silent corridors of the Academy, where even the shadows seemed to be under surveillance. He passed the Hall of Seals, the Crystal Stair, and finally reached the nobles' dormitory. Positioning himself behind a pillar, he faced the chamber of Sir Edrian Valcort—son of a baron and one of Kaelian's most prominent rivals.
He closed his eyes.
Muttered the spell a second time.
A deep throb struck his temples like a war drum.
There—he felt the pulses. Three. No—four hearts inside the room.
Edrian was not alone.
Muffled voices filtered through the thick stone. Kaelian focused, pushing the spell to its limits.
"Tomorrow. Sixth hour. He must fall."
"What if we catch him cheating? Elgorn would have him expelled."
"He doesn't cheat… but we can make it look like he does."
Kaelian's breath caught.
The spell faded with a cold tremor down his spine.
They were plotting.
Against him.
****
The next morning, everything seemed ordinary in the Grand Study Hall. Students scribbled on parchment, exchanged minor illusions, or practiced resonance formulas. Kaelian sat with a tome on shapeshifting, though his thoughts were elsewhere.
A trap.
They were planning to frame him.
But he had the upper hand now—he knew.
When the professor called his name for a demonstration duel against Edrian, Kaelian showed no sign of surprise. No caution. Only that perfectly measured smirk he wore like armor—a mixture of deference and mockery.
They stepped into the circle of incantation.
"No lethal spells. No physical contact. Blood magic strictly forbidden," Master Lorthen intoned.
Kaelian nodded.
He wouldn't need it.
****
Edrian cast first—a prismatic serpent, a flashy illusion with a hidden blinding flare. Predictable.
Kaelian sidestepped gracefully, countering with a spell from the authorized curriculum—but secretly modified. It was a version of Illusion Mist, enhanced with a sliver of forbidden magic: emotional coercion.
Result: fear. Confusion. Disorientation.
Edrian's confident gaze flickered.
He wavered.
Stumbled.
Kaelian, feigning concern, ended the spell.
"Need a hand?" he called, voice dripping with false kindness.
Laughter erupted from the spectators. Even Master Lorthen allowed himself a restrained chuckle.
Kaelian had won—not just the duel, but a silent war.
And no one could prove a thing.
****
That night, he returned to the underground arena.
More confident.
More dangerous.
A new spell: Shadow Link.
Crude, but powerful. With a single drop of blood, he could mark a target—feel their movements, their emotions, even their intent.
The problem? This spell wasn't just forbidden.
It was condemned.
Use of it meant execution, without trial.
But Kaelian understood something the others didn't.
In this world, power belonged to those who dared what others feared.
He carved the glyph on the stone floor—an inverted crescent, his blood pooled at the center.
"Lumen Tenebris, vinculum motus, vinculum intentio…"
The mark activated.
He would test it on Lyssa.
Not because he distrusted her—but because she knew too much.
And she was too close.
****
He waited by the central well, just past the herbal gardens. She came there each night for her decoctions.
When she arrived, he greeted her casually, looked away—and cast the spell in silence.
An invisible pulse tethered their life flows. The bond formed.
A wave of nausea struck him—then heat. Warmth. Tenderness. Worry. Pain.
Not his.
Hers.
He blinked.
She cared? Or… was she hurting because of him?
He cut the spell.
Prolonged exposure risked unwanted effects—psychic feedback, soul entanglement.
Kaelian stepped back into the shadows.
Shaken.
It wasn't the magic that frightened him.
It was what he had felt.
****
Three days later, rumors surged through the Academy like wildfire.
"Professor Rhel detected traces of dark energy in the training yard."
No names were mentioned.
But eyes narrowed. Whispers sharpened.
Kaelian said nothing.
Watched everything.
He knew Master Elgorn would act soon.
And he did.
Late afternoon, Kaelian was summoned.
The chamber was too quiet. Elgorn waited, his old frame bent, silver hair glowing in the lamplight, pale eyes unreadable.
"You're advancing… quickly. Too quickly," the old mage said.
Kaelian didn't answer.
"There are truths one doesn't find in permitted grimoires."
Still, silence.
"Be cautious. Genius draws eyes. But light draws shadows."
Kaelian raised an eyebrow.
"A threat, Master?"
Elgorn smiled.
"A warning. You're not the only one breaking rules. Just the only one doing it… well."
Kaelian understood.
He wasn't exposed.
But he was being watched.
****
That night, he returned to his quarters. Sealed the doors with layered enchantments.
He sat cross-legged, eyes closed, hands trembling slightly.
Not with fear.
With exhilaration.
He had crossed a line.
There was no going back.
Forbidden magic was more than a tool. It was a key. A gate. A footprint in a realm older and deeper than any courtly intrigue.
And now, he had targets.
Edrian.
Theor.
The Queen.
One by one.
But to reach them… he would have to go further.
Much further.
****
At the bottom of an old chest, stolen from the library's lowest vault, waited a second scroll.
The one even the boldest feared.
"The Art of Ethereal Doubling: Partial Possession."
****
To be continued…
****
Next: Chapter 25 – Building Foundations, Rising Tensions
Kaelian deepens his network of alliances. But the secret arena begins to draw too much attention. An unknown spy shadows his movements. And Lyssa… may be hiding a secret greater than anyone suspects.
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