The night after the boar attack, Ethan lay in bed, his leg bandaged and throbbing with a dull ache. Exhaustion took over as he drifted off into a restless sleep.
In his dreams, he found himself back in the forest, the dark shapes of trees closing in around him. The boar appeared again, its eyes burning with a fierce intelligence. It charged at him, tusks gleaming in the moonlight. Ethan tried to run, but his legs felt heavy, as if they were weighed down by unseen chains. The shadows around him writhed and twisted, mirroring his fear and desperation.
The boar lunged, and Ethan felt the sharp pain of its tusks tearing into his leg. He screamed, the sound echoing through the forest. The shadows surged, wrapping around the boar and pulling it away, but the pain remained, vivid and real.
Ethan jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. He was drenched in sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The nightmare had felt so real, the fear and pain still lingering in his mind. He knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.
Quietly, so as not to disturb the other children, Ethan slipped out of bed and crept through the orphanage. The hallways were dark and silent, the moon casting long shadows that danced along the walls. He made his way outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the oppressive heat of his nightmare.
Ethan walked to a secluded part of the grounds, away from the buildings and the watchful eyes of the caretakers. He found a small clearing, surrounded by trees whose shadows seemed to beckon him. He stood there, feeling the darkness wrap around him like a comforting blanket.
Closing his eyes, Ethan reached out with his mind, trying to connect with the shadows as he had during the boar attack. He felt a strange resonance, a pulsing energy that seemed to flow through him and into the darkness around him. Slowly, tentatively, he began to experiment with his newfound powers.
He extended his hand, willing the shadows to move. They responded, curling around his fingers like tendrils of smoke. With a thought, he directed them to grab a nearby rock, lifting it off the ground and holding it in mid-air. The sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Ethan continued to practice, learning to control the shadows with increasing precision. He could use them to grab objects, to wrap around himself and hide from sight, and even to create a barrier against imaginary foes. The more he used his powers, the more in tune he felt with the darkness.
As he practiced, Ethan felt a growing exhaustion, both physical and mental. But he couldn't stop; something inside him urged him to keep going, to push his limits. His intuition guided him, telling him to focus all the shadows in one spot on the ground.
He poured all his energy into this task, concentrating harder than he ever had before. The shadows converged, swirling together to form a dense, dark mass. Slowly, the mass began to take shape, coalescing into a featureless figure made entirely of shadow.
Ethan watched in awe as the shadowy figure stood before him, its form shifting and flowing like liquid darkness. The effort had taken everything he had, and he felt his strength waning. His vision blurred, and his legs gave way beneath him.
As he collapsed to the ground, the last thing he saw was the shadowy figure standing over him, a silent sentinel in the night. Exhaustion overcame him, and he slipped into unconsciousness, his mind filled with the possibilities of what he had just achieved.
Ethan awoke to find himself surrounded by the caretakers and some of the other children who had found him in the morning. Their faces were a mixture of concern and curiosity, their whispers filling the air as they tried to piece together what had happened.
Miss Clara was kneeling beside him, her hands glowing with a soft, healing light as she checked his injuries. "Ethan," she said gently, "are you alright? What happened?"
Ethan groaned, his body aching from the previous night's exertions. He glanced around, noticing that the shadowy figure was nowhere to be seen. It had seemingly disappeared into the night, leaving no trace of its presence.
"I... I was practicing my magic," Ethan began, his voice hoarse. "I felt this connection to the shadows, and I tried to see what I could do. There was a figure, made of shadow, but now it's gone."
Miss Clara's eyes widened, and she exchanged a glance with the other caretakers. "A shadow figure? Ethan, that's incredible. But it's also very dangerous for you to be out here alone."
She helped him sit up, and one of the other caretakers brought him some water. As Ethan drank, Miss Clara took out a small, intricately carved talisman. She held it in her hand, her expression serious.
"I'm going to make a report to the Arcane Hunters about what happened," she explained. "They need to know about your powers and the events of last night."
Ethan watched as Miss Clara activated the talisman. A faint glow surrounded it, and she spoke in a low, urgent tone, recounting the details of the previous night's events and Ethan's emerging abilities.
When she finished, she turned back to Ethan, her expression a mixture of pride and concern. "Ethan, your powers are awakening in ways we've never seen before. The Arcane Hunters will want to understand this better and ensure your safety."
Ethan nodded, feeling a mix of emotions. The discovery of his powers and the connection to the shadows was exhilarating, but the attention it would bring from the Arcane Hunters was daunting. He knew his life was about to change in ways he couldn't yet predict.
As the caretakers helped him back to the orphanage, Ethan's mind raced with thoughts of the shadowy figure and the mysterious bloodline, the Path of the Shade. He resolved to learn more about his powers and control them, no matter what challenges lay ahead.