The Dorm

Chapter 4: The Den of Shadows (Expanded)

Elara's new home pulsed with an undeniable energy, something ancient and predatory that clung to the air like mist. As she explored the room, she felt the walls hum beneath her fingertips—alive, watching, judging.

The window in her room was the most unsettling part. It didn't open to the outside world but to an endless, swirling void. At first, she thought it was just a magically enchanted view, but then the shadows moved. Shapes twisted in the darkness, whispers slithering through the air.

"Who are you?"

Elara stepped back sharply, her pulse hammering in her throat.

The whisper came from nowhere and everywhere at once, a soft, velvety voice coiling around her mind. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.

"None of your damn business," she muttered.

The shadows laughed.

She turned away before they could try again.

The Common Room: Magic and Malice

By the time she returned to the common room, the atmosphere had shifted. The once-languid lounging had been replaced with an electric tension.

A circle had formed near the cold-flamed fireplace. Students gathered around, murmuring in anticipation, their expressions ranging from amusement to dark hunger.

In the center, two figures stood opposite each other, magic already crackling between them.

Astra leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes glittering with interest.

"What's happening?" Elara asked.

Astra didn't take her eyes off the unfolding duel. "Kieran and Lucian had a… disagreement."

Elara looked at the two boys. Kieran Vale, the self-proclaimed king of the dorm, stood with his hands casually tucked into his pockets, his silver eyes gleaming with something close to boredom. Lucian Crowe, all wiry energy and sharp angles, grinned like a wolf about to bite.

"I think someone's about to get burned," Astra murmured.

Lucian flicked a dagger between his fingers, the metal gleaming unnaturally in the dim light. "You talk a lot of shit, Kieran. I figured it's time you back it up."

Kieran sighed dramatically. "You do this every term, Lucian. You lost last time. And the time before that."

Lucian's grin sharpened. "Yeah? Maybe this time, I'll cut deeper."

The air hissed as the duel began.

Lucian moved first. He blurred forward, too fast for human eyes, his dagger a streak of silver. But before he could even strike, Kieran vanished—or rather, he melted into shadow, slipping through Lucian like smoke.

Elara barely had time to react before Kieran reappeared behind Lucian. He raised a hand, and tendrils of darkness lashed out, wrapping around Lucian's limbs like living chains.

Lucian twisted, his dagger pulsing with violet runes. The moment it touched the shadow bindings, the magic shattered like glass.

Kieran's smirk faltered.

Lucian lunged.

His dagger slashed toward Kieran's throat, but at the last second, Kieran caught the blade between his fingers.

Silence fell.

Then—

Kieran tightened his grip. Shadows poured from his hand, swallowing the dagger whole. Lucian barely had time to react before Kieran's free hand shot forward, pressing against Lucian's chest.

A pulse of dark energy sent Lucian flying across the room. He hit the wall hard, gasping as the impact knocked the breath from his lungs.

Kieran dusted off his uniform, unfazed. "You were saying?"

Lucian groaned, rubbing his ribs. "Fuck off."

Kieran smirked. "Charming as always."

The tension broke. Laughter rippled through the room, some mocking, some impressed.

Elara exhaled. The power she had just witnessed was terrifying—and intoxicating.

She was going to have to be careful here.

Very careful.

A Night of Whispers and Promises

Later that night, Elara found herself in the dorm's upper balcony, overlooking the academy's sprawling, mist-covered grounds.

She wasn't alone.

Kieran stood beside her, hands in his pockets, watching the darkness below.

"You're different from the other first-years," he murmured.

Elara didn't look at him. "You don't even know me."

Kieran turned, studying her with unsettling intensity. "Not yet."

The night air was thick with magic, the scent of something forbidden clinging to it. Elara felt the weight of Kieran's gaze and the slow, deliberate way he leaned closer.

"Tell me, Nightshade," he murmured, voice like velvet and steel. "How far are you willing to go to survive here?"

Elara met his eyes. Unflinching. Unafraid.

"As far as I have to."

Kieran's lips curved into something between a smirk and something darker.

"Good."

The shadows around them moved.

And Elara knew—her time at Astralis Academy had only just begun.