The shadow curved like a smile.

  Kyrex didn’t breathe.

  Didn’t blink.

  Because if he did, it might disappear — and somehow that felt worse.

  “…You’re real,” he said quietly.

  The shadow did not reply.

  Morning light spilled through the tall classroom windows, weakening the darkness in the corners. Yet that patch remained darker than the rest, like ink on stone.

  Then a student entered behind him.

  The door slid open.

  Light shifted.

  The shadow returned to normal.

  Flat. Lifeless.

  Kyrex clenched his jaw.

  So it only moves when I’m alone.

  Or when it wants to.

  Class filled quickly after.

  Students chatted, comparing spell results from the night before.

  “I made a flame the size of my head.”

  “I almost melted my desk.”

  “Professor said my mana flow is above average.”

  Kyrex listened quietly.

  His hands rested in his lap.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Still no spark.

  Still nothing.

  The instructor arrived and began the lesson on mana perception.

  “Magic,” the professor said, writing a circle in the air, “is not created. It is recognized.”

  Some students nodded like they understood.

  Kyrex tried to feel what the others felt.

  A warmth. A pulse. Something.

  He felt… silence.

  But beneath that silence—

  A faint sensation.

  Like someone knocking from very far away.

  He almost focused on it—

  Then the classroom door opened.

  A late student stepped in.

  Silver-eyed. Calm. Carrying a wooden practice sword.

  The room quieted slightly.

  Even the professor paused.

  “Apologies for the delay,” the boy said politely.

  His voice was steady.

  Measured.

  He took a seat.

  As he passed Kyrex, their eyes met for half a second.

  Kyrex felt a chill.

  Not fear.

  Recognition.

  Like hearing a familiar song he couldn’t name.

  After class, Kyrex packed slowly.

  The silver-eyed student stopped beside his desk.

  “You’re Kyrex, right?”

  Kyrex looked up. “…Yeah.”

  “You try too hard to force it,” the boy said.

  Kyrex frowned. “Force what?”

  “Magic.”

  Kyrex’s pride twitched. “Easy for you to say.”

  The boy shook his head lightly.

  “Not really.”

  Then he walked away.

  No explanation.

  No introduction.

  Just calm steps fading down the hall.

  Weird guy.

  That evening, Kyrex returned to the dorm early.

  He placed his bag down feels off remove.

  He glanced at the corner near the ceiling.

  Normal shadow.

  He almost felt disappointed.

  “…If you’re there,” he muttered, “do something.”

  Silence.

  He lay down.

  Closed his eyes.

  Sleep came faster than expected.

  He stood on water.

  Endless. Still. Reflecting a sky full of unfamiliar stars.

  Kyrex looked around slowly.

  “…A dream?”

  Ripples formed behind him.

  He turned.

  A figure stood far away.

  Blurry. Shapeless. Yet watching.

  Kyrex tried to step closer.

  The water resisted like glass.

  Then the figure spoke.

  Not loudly.

  Not softly.

  Just… directly into his mind.

  “A piece that sees the board too early tends to suffer.”

  Kyrex swallowed.

  “…Who are you?”

  The answer came after a pause.

  “A witness.”

  The stars above flickered.

  For a split second, Kyrex saw something behind the sky—

  Wings.

  Huge. Faint. Made of light.

  Then he woke up.

  His dorm room was dark.

  Everyone asleep.

  But his heart was racing.

  And his hand…

  Felt warm.

  He lifted it slowly.

  A faint shimmer lingered around his fingers.

  Like starlight fading.

  Kyrex stared at it.

  “…What was that?”

  From the corner of the room—

  A shadow stretched slightly.

  Like it had been watching the whole time.

  And somewhere far beyond the academy,

  A voice muttered softly:

  “He’s starting to hear it.”