Chapter 105: Names Buried in Shadow
—Two Taken—
The attack wasn't a strike.
It was a presence.
It came just past midnight, beneath the cloud-veiled dormitories of the Soul Academy, when the students had settled and the night wards were weakest.
Karen Lockwood had only just begun recovering from her dream—the Abyss's whisper—when her dorm window shattered without sound.
And something stepped through.
Not a blur.
Not a storm.
Just a man.
If he could still be called that.
Draped in layered, threadbare robes that folded through space like broken parchment, the figure moved without urgency, without threat. His aura didn't roar—it erased.
Her Soul immediately recognized the distortion.
The dark bent around him.
And then… he was gone.
Appeared again—behind her.
Karen pivoted. Her soul pulsed. The Shadow Bloom bloomed to life behind her, unfurling like black petals from her Proto Domain. Her scythe called into her hand—cold and curved like the memory of something long buried.
But the man spoke first.
"You have the scent of the Abyss."
---
In the hallway beyond, alarms lit faintly. Cassandra Ikemba was already moving, her Null Field simmering like a quiet gravity well. Leslie, Marie, and Jim flanked her as they moved toward Karen's room, responding to the soul-flare they didn't fully understand.
They kicked down the door—
—and stopped.
Karen stood in her Domain.
Scythe lowered.
The man didn't attack.
He simply regarded them.
"Children," he murmured. "Soulbornes. Fledglings."
Cassandra stepped forward, her own Domain blooming in a silent implosion—Null Field. It devoured light.
The man tilted his head, the faintest trace of amusement brushing his voice.
"Two of you… familiar."
Karen struck first. It didn't matter if she knew she couldn't win.
The scythe moved fast. Her shadows surged.
They hit air.
He wasn't there anymore.
Then he was behind Marie—until Jim intercepted, his aura flaring blue.
Then he was behind Cassandra.
Until she collapsed her domain—forcing a compression.
Still, it wasn't enough.
He moved faster than their eyes could follow.
He wasn't fast like lightning.
He was fast like intention.
Karen pushed deeper. She did something she was warned not to. She compressed the Shadow Bloom—pulled it inward. Layer by layer, wrapping it around her body.
When she stood again, the Abyssal Armor shimmered over her frame. Her eyes darkened, her presence stabilized. Her power focused.
The man paused.
Not because she could win—
But because someone had clearly taught her control.
"Who showed you that?" he asked.
Karen, panting, scythe steady, replied:
"Rose Ikemba."
He blinked once.
And then… something shifted.
"Ra`gnisis?," he said. Quietly. Like a thought.
Karen's breath caught.
That wasn't a name Rose ever used.
He turned to leave. But not before looking at Cassandra.
Really looking.
She didn't flinch.
His voice, low:
"You look like her… in the old days."
Cassandra scowled. "Like who?"
He didn't answer.
He simply touched the air.
And she was gone.
Karen lunged, scythe slashing through a warped mirror of shadow—too late.
He gripped Karen next. She resisted. Hard.
But his grip wasn't strength—it was ownership. He turned, folding the shadows inward.
"You'll understand later."
---
Kamharida awoke mid-soul trace, gasping. Her eyes snapped to the direction of the Academy. Her soul was already launching out of the chamber before her body moved.
She breached three barriers.
Ignored protocol.
By the time she arrived—
They were already gone.
---
Back in the Veil's inner sanctum, Mirex stood beside the grand projection, feeling the disturbance, eyes narrowing.
T`halem stepped through the blackened gate, releasing Karen's unconscious form onto one of the peripheral resting slabs.
Mirex said nothing.
Just watched.
Then—he saw Cassandra, slumped over T`halem's shoulder.
He stepped forward.
"You were told to bring the girl. Not an Ikemba."
T`halem looked up. His gaze did not tremble.
"I brought what interested me."
"That wasn't the—"
"I was not assigned, Mirex," T`halem interrupted.
"You ask. I choose."
The chamber quieted.
Even Nyel, seated nearby, looked away.
T`halem walked past the central floor, through the darker archways—into his personal quarters.
He placed Cassandra gently on a blackstone divan. Watched her sleep. Watched her breathe.
"Ra`gnisis was fire," he murmured to no one.
"But this one… this one is silence."
He sat.
And for the first time in centuries, T`halem did not feel alone.
---