Chapter 20: The Subtle Art of Concealment

The days following the duel passed in a strange mix of silence and anticipation. The aftermath of his victory had stirred the academy, but the frenzy had already begun to die down. Var-Nyx could sense that many of the students had already moved on to other things, as was the nature of youth—fickle and quick to forget. But he knew better than to think that his duel with Calev hadn't left ripples.

The attention was still there, just more subtle now. Whispers of his power circulated through the halls, but they didn't carry the same sharpness they once had. Some had begun to treat him with respect, others with caution, and a few—those with more refined instincts—seemed to regard him with a mixture of intrigue and suspicion.

But Var-Nyx was no fool. He understood the precarious balance he was walking.

At night, he sat in his quarters, his gaze fixed on the moonlight spilling through the window. His fingers traced the edges of his journal, where he had been noting the happenings around the academy, the alliances forming, and the subtle shifts in the power dynamics. The competition was fierce, but he was learning quickly.

His magic was still growing, still evolving. He had barely begun to tap into his true potential, but the last thing he needed was to be seen as a threat—especially not this early. The academy was a place where ambition could either forge champions or destroy them. He had seen what happened to those who made the mistake of showing too much.

Calev's defeat had been necessary, but it had also been a calculated risk. Var-Nyx didn't want to be seen as weak, but he didn't want to become the target of every noble, every powerful student, or every ambitious teacher in the academy, either. So, he'd done just enough. He had made it clear that he was capable, but not so capable that anyone would believe him to be an insurmountable threat.

In his mind, it was best to remain an enigma—a student with enough power to stay at the top of the rankings but not enough to attract the dangerous eyes of those at the very peak.

"I need to lay low," he murmured to himself, the words almost an affirmation. "Pretend to be weaker than I am. Just enough to be untouchable, but not enough to be dangerous."

The next morning, Var-Nyx entered the main hall for breakfast, keeping his head down as he walked past the long tables filled with students. His usual spot was near the far end, where he could observe the rest of the students without being the center of attention. He sat down, his eyes flicking briefly over the room.

The nobles were already gathered at their usual spot, flaunting their wealth and power. Calev, though subdued, was seated among them, his demeanor stiff but his gaze sharp. Var-Nyx knew better than to draw attention to the man just yet. For now, he needed to let the rivalry simmer. He didn't need another confrontation so soon.

At the other end of the room, he spotted Kael, as always, keeping to himself. Var-Nyx wasn't sure whether Kael had grown interested in him because of his power or because of his ability to remain hidden in plain sight. Either way, the silent observer had been sticking close to him lately, like a shadow that never quite left. Var-Nyx wasn't sure if Kael was a friend, an ally, or just someone waiting to see what he would do next.

"You're starting to settle in," Kael remarked as he slid into the seat beside him, his voice low. "I thought for sure you'd make more of a spectacle of yourself after the duel."

Var-Nyx didn't look at him immediately, but his eyes moved to Kael's reflection in the polished table surface. "I've made my point," he replied simply. "But it's best not to draw too much attention. I'm not here to become a target."

Kael raised an eyebrow. "Smart. You know, people are already whispering that you're the strongest in the class. But you're right to play it down. The moment you show too much, the others will be gunning for you."

Var-Nyx nodded slowly, his mind turning over Kael's words. "I need to stay out of the spotlight. Just enough to be respected, but not enough to be feared."

"You're already feared, though," Kael said, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration. "You don't need to do anything more than what you've already done."

Var-Nyx met his gaze for the first time, his eyes steely. "And that's exactly why I need to keep my head down. I can't afford to make enemies just yet. I have my own goals, and they don't include being anyone's target."

Kael seemed to consider this, his eyes narrowing. "You're not just trying to survive, are you? You're planning something bigger."

Var-Nyx didn't answer immediately. He wasn't ready to let Kael into his plans—not yet. "Let's just say I'm here to learn. And I won't let anyone get in my way."

Over the next few weeks, Var-Nyx followed the plan he had set for himself. He continued to display just enough strength to maintain his position near the top, but he deliberately refrained from any actions that would put him at the center of the academy's political games. He kept his interactions with the other students casual—he didn't make friends, but he didn't make enemies either. He walked the line of neutrality, remaining in the shadows while allowing others to shine.

In class, he demonstrated just enough magical prowess to remain in the upper echelons of the student rankings. He never overextended himself, never took on challenges that might reveal the full extent of his abilities. When it came to practical demonstrations, he performed with skill, but always with an air of nonchalance, as if it didn't take much effort to achieve the results.

It was a careful balance, and it required constant vigilance. The moment he slipped up and revealed too much, the hunters would be after him. But as long as he kept his true power hidden, he could afford to let the others waste their energy trying to figure him out.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling practice session, Var-Nyx sat in the courtyard, watching as the other students sparred with each other. He didn't participate; he didn't need to. He had already demonstrated his capabilities, and now he just had to wait. Wait for the right moment to move, to make his real play.

But for now, he would remain a shadow, blending into the background, pretending to be weak when in reality, he was anything but.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the courtyard, Var-Nyx's thoughts turned inward. This game, the game of power, would be won with patience. And as long as he kept laying low, no one would be able to stop him.