THE PRICE OF FEAR

Chapter 4: The Price of Fear

The storm rolled in without warning. One moment the courtyard was hushed under gray skies, the next, black clouds twisted above the spires of Darklight Academy, swirling in impossible shapes. Lightning forked across the heavens, striking too close, yet leaving no scorch marks.

Students scattered, some vanishing into walls, others slipping into shadowy alcoves. Lyra stood frozen, her pulse hammering. She felt the storm in her bones, the raw electricity vibrating through her veins. It wasn’t natural. It was magic. And it was looking for her.

A shadow brushed against her arm—Kael. “Don’t stand there,” he snapped, grabbing her wrist. “Storms like this aren’t weather. They’re hunts.”

Lyra stumbled as he pulled her down a twisting corridor. The storm followed, a low rumble echoing through the walls as though the academy itself was chasing them. Wind howled through the halls, rattling ancient glass and extinguishing candles.

“What’s happening?” Lyra gasped.

Kael’s expression was grim, his jaw tight. “The academy tests those it marks. It’s chosen you, Lyra. This storm is your trial.”

Her blood ran cold. Chosen me? For what?

Before she could ask, the ground trembled. Shadows thickened in the corridor ahead, rising from the floor like smoke given form. They coiled, writhed, and took shape—tall figures with hollow eyes and mouths that opened too wide, whispering her name.

Lyra.

She froze. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her body wouldn’t obey. The shadows fed on her fear, growing stronger, stretching long fingers toward her.

“Don’t listen to them,” Kael hissed, stepping in front of her. The darkness bent around him, reluctant to touch him, but still pressing closer. “They’ll strip you apart from the inside if you let them in.”

Lyra’s throat was dry. “What do I do?”

Kael turned, his storm-colored eyes locking on hers. “Fight them. Show them you’re not prey.”

The shadows hissed, their whispers growing louder, a cacophony of her doubts and desires. Weak… alone… fragile…

But Lyra felt something stir inside her, the same power she’d glimpsed in the Mirror Pool—the storm beneath her skin, the threads of magic that had always hummed around her. She raised her hands, instinctively reaching for that hidden current. The air around her shifted, vibrating like a plucked string.

The nearest shadow recoiled, hissing, as threads of faint silver light laced through her fingertips. The whispers faltered.

Kael’s lips curved in a dark smile. “Yes. That’s it. Make them fear you.”

Lyra focused harder, pulling at the threads only she could see. The light flared, unraveling one of the shadow-creatures into smoke. Another lunged, but she pushed back with a cry, the silver strands slicing through it like a blade.

Her heart raced, her body trembling with the effort, but exhilaration surged through her veins. The storm above roared, then faltered, its thunder cracking into silence. One by one, the shadows dissolved, leaving only the echo of their whispers in the air.

Lyra dropped to her knees, gasping for breath. The silver threads faded from her hands, but the sensation of power lingered.

Kael crouched beside her, his hand brushing her cheek. His touch was gentle, but his gaze was sharp, almost hungry. “You see now,” he murmured. “The academy marked you because you belong here. You’re not just surviving—you’re changing.”

Lyra’s chest tightened. Part of her wanted to deny it, to say this wasn’t her, but the thrill of what she’d done—the power that had answered her call—was undeniable.

The storm outside dissipated, leaving the academy eerily quiet. Kael leaned closer, his voice a whisper meant only for her.

“But remember, Lyra—every gift has a price. And here…” His lips nearly brushed hers, shadows curling around them like a secret. “…the price is always steep.”

Lyra’s breath caught. She should have pulled back. Instead, she found herself leaning forward, caught in the dangerous gravity between them.

At the last moment, Kael smiled darkly and stood, offering her his hand. “Come. The others will already know you passed your first trial. They’ll be watching you now.”

Lyra hesitated before taking his hand, but when she did, she felt the shadows stir again, as though the academy itself had been waiting for her choice.

And in the depths of the ancient halls, something whispered her name once more.

Lyra.

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