Ancient magic

The hidden corridors were colder than the rest of the Academy. The air hung heavy, damp with the scent of moss and earth, as though the stones themselves had been carved from a cavern far below. Their footsteps echoed faintly, each sound magnified by the silence that swallowed the halls.

Lucien kept Fenris pressed close, the wolf cub’s hackles raised, ears twitching with every drip of water or scuttle of unseen creatures. Torchlight from Darius’ stag horns glowed faintly, casting eerie patterns across the walls.

“Remind me again,” Toren whispered, his voice bouncing off the stone, “why we’re wandering down here like lunatics instead of, say, eating supper like civilized students?”

“Because supper won’t save you when something strikes in the night,” Arian muttered. Sylveira prowled ahead, her tail flicking like a pendulum, eyes gleaming with sharp intent.

Caelith tapped his journal, his hawk Nyx watching from above with unblinking eyes. “These tunnels aren’t marked on any student map. That means they’re either forgotten or forbidden. Either way, Aldwyn knows of them, which makes them valuable.”

Lucien frowned. “You’re saying we’re following his trail?”

“I’m saying,” Caelith replied softly, “we’re not the only ones using these passages.”

A chill ran down Lucien’s spine. He thought of Aldwyn’s words: Sooner than you think.

---

The group moved deeper. The tunnels twisted and wound, splitting into narrow side paths like veins branching from a heart. Dust clung to the walls, but here and there, Lucien noticed faint scuff marks—fresh ones—like boots dragged across the stone.

Fenris sniffed the ground, then let out a low growl. His body stiffened, every muscle taut.

“Someone’s been here,” Darius said quietly, his Obsidian Stag lowering its antlers as if ready to charge. “Recently.”

Toren groaned. “Fantastic. Shall we just write ‘Please kill us quickly’ on our foreheads?”

“Quiet,” Arian snapped. He crouched low, fingers brushing over the marks. His jaw tightened. “Two sets. One heavy, one lighter. They weren’t careful.”

Lucien’s chest tightened. “Where do they lead?”

“Forward.”

The word was simple, but it pulled them onward, deeper into the belly of the Academy.

---

The tunnel opened suddenly into a chamber, circular and vast. A faint glow pulsed in the air, emanating from runes carved into the floor—old, ancient symbols that writhed faintly as if alive.

Lucien froze. “This isn’t part of the Academy.”

Caelith’s quill scratched furiously against his journal. “No… it’s older. Pre-Academy. These markings—”

A loud crack cut him off.

From the shadows, a cloaked figure stepped forward, their face hidden beneath a hood. Another figure followed, taller, carrying a staff that pulsed faintly with blue light.

Lucien’s heart hammered. These weren’t students.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the taller figure said, voice low and resonant. “Children meddling where they don’t belong.”

Arian stepped forward, Sylveira at his side. “And you shouldn’t be here either. Who are you?”

The cloaked figure chuckled, a sound like dry leaves. “Names are for the marked. We are shadows. And you—” his gaze swept the group, lingering on Lucien “—are the bait.”

Lucien’s blood ran cold. “Bait?”

Fenris growled, pressing against his leg. The wolf cub’s fur bristled, teeth bared. Lucien reached instinctively for the bond, but instead of reassurance, he felt something else: a surge of raw defiance.

Not fear. Challenge.

The taller figure raised his staff, and the runes on the floor flared, throwing the chamber into blinding light. Energy pulsed outward, making the air vibrate. The companions stirred uneasily—Sylveira’s fur stood on end, Blaze let out a nervous hiss of sparks, and even the mighty Stag stamped its hooves in alarm.

Lucien felt the tug immediately. The runes were pulling—not at him, but at Fenris.

“No!” he shouted, dropping to his knees, arms wrapping around the cub. “You’re not taking him!”

The cloaked figure’s voice cut through the chaos. “Some bonds are too dangerous to be left unchecked. That wolf is more than you think."

Arian lunged, but the taller figure thrust his staff downward. A barrier shimmered into existence, cutting him off. Sylveira struck against it, claws sparking, but the shield held.

Lucien’s chest burned. He tightened his hold on Fenris, reaching for the bond. The wolf resisted—just as he had in class—but this time, Lucien didn’t command. He begged. Please stay with me. Don’t give in.

Fenris’ golden eyes glowed, defiance radiating through the bond. The pull of the runes grew sharper, harder, like invisible chains trying to drag him away.

Lucien’s mind swam. He thought of Aldwyn’s words. Keep him close. You’ll need him.

“I won’t let them take you,” Lucien whispered, voice breaking.

And then it happened.

The bond flared. Not with submission, but with fire. Fenris snarled, his small body glowing with raw energy. The runes fought to drag him, but he pushed back, his will crashing into Lucien’s like a storm.

The taller figure stumbled, staff shaking. “Impossible—he’s resisting—so he's more than we thought—”

Fenris barked, the sound like thunder in the chamber. The runes shattered, sparks of broken light scattering across the floor.

The barrier dropped instantly. Arian surged forward, blade drawn, Sylveira at his side. Darius charged, his Stag lowering its glowing antlers. Toren flung a ball of fire clumsily, Blaze adding a stream of sparks.

The cloaked figures reeled, overwhelmed by the sudden assault. They backed toward the shadows, muttering curses. “This isn’t over,” the taller one hissed. “The bond is flawed. The Academy will burn with it.”

And then they were gone, swallowed by the dark.

---

Silence pressed down like a weight. The shattered runes smoked faintly, their glow fading.

Lucien collapsed to his knees, Fenris pressed tight against him. The wolf’s body trembled, but his eyes gleamed with fierce pride.

“You—” Toren wheezed, bending over with his hands on his knees, “—you just broke… ancient magic. With a puppy. Wow”

Lucien managed a weak laugh, though his chest still heaved with panic. He stroked Fenris’ fur. “Not with a puppy. With my companion.”

Arian stood nearby, his expression unreadable. But for the first time, Lucien thought he saw a flicker of respect in those sharp eyes.

“You held him,” Arian said softly. “You didn’t force him. That’s why it worked.”

Lucien looked down at Fenris, who licked his hand stubbornly. “No… we held each other.”

---

They left the chamber in silence, the weight of what they had seen pressing heavy on their shoulders. None of them spoke until they reached the safer corridors above, where the familiar bustle of students felt almost alien after the confrontation.

Caelith finally broke the silence, scribbling furiously in his journal. “Those figures—whoever they were—they weren’t here by accident. They knew exactly where to strike. And they knew about Fenris.”

Lucien swallowed. “They said…I was bait.”

Darius’ hand clenched into a fist. “Which means someone sent them.”

The name neither of them wanted to say hung in the air like smoke.

Aldwyn.

---

That night, Lucien sat on his bed, Fenris curled tightly against his chest. The wolf’s breathing was steady, but Lucien couldn’t rest. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the runes pulling Fenris away, saw the figures reaching through the light.

He thought again of Aldwyn’s words, of the fire, of the warning. Sooner than you think.

Now he understood.

The shadows weren’t waiting. They were already here.

And he was at the center of it.

•••