ShadowBound: The Need For Power

For the past few days, Liam had thrown himself into the art of Shadow Solidification, honing it to become something better. Each midnight, he shaped Nyxie into a new form—a sparring partner molded from his shadow. These nightly bouts weren't just for fun; they were sessions meant to sharpen his combat edge and gauge how much his Myst reserves had grown since that blood-soaked encounter with the Blood Demons.

And the results? Impressive. His ability to maintain Shadow Solidification while fighting had surged beyond what it once was. Where once his control wavered, now it held strong and stable. But even with all that progress, one goal kept gnawing at him.

Ascension.

Liam craved and dreamed of it. The next Mystic level was all he thought about, especially now that he'd refined his use of Mystsense. But no matter how hard he pushed, the threshold stayed locked. He knew why—forcing an Ascension came with consequences. Just like before, the backlash wasn't worth it unless he was ready. And body adjustment delay? Yeah, that was hell.

Now, he stood alone at one of the secluded training grounds on the eastern edge of the academy. The sky above was a cold canvas, stars blinking faintly. Nyxie stood opposite him, shaped into her humanoid shadow-dragon form, her presence humming with silent menace.

"Don't hold back on me, Nyxie," Liam said, flipping his new daggers in his hands with ease.

These were blades forged by Mr. Blackwood months ago, tailored to Liam's style—curved, glowing, each with a claw-like grip and intricate looped hilt. The metal was a dark silver hue, with dark violet patterns pulsing like veins across the surface.

'Blackwood nailed it. These fit like they were born for me,' Liam mused, his fingers curling around the handles. 'Way better than Draven's blades. Faster draw, better weight. These are mine.'

Nyxie shifted slightly, her form tightening into a stance. Liam mirrored it.

'If only you could talk… that'd make everything a hell of a lot easier,' he thought, eyes narrowing. 'But that's on me. My mystic level's still too low to awaken your speech. I'll get there, though. I have to. There are things only a Mystical Beast like you can tell me… and I need answers.'

He exhaled once.

"Alright," he said, voice low, sharp with intent. "Let's go."

The moment Liam spoke, the world moved.

Nyxie lunged first—no hesitation. Just raw, unfiltered aggression. Her form blurred like a smear of shadow, claws dragging sparks from the ground as she surged forward. Liam barely sidestepped in time, his boots grinding against the stone with a sharp pivot.

She spun midair, her tail lashing like a whip. Liam ducked under it and went in low, daggers slashing upward—but Nyxie had already vanished into mist-like tendrils of shadow, reforming behind him in a crouch.

"Clever." Liam smirked, flipping his blades backward.

He launched into a flurry—slashes fast enough to blur.

Nyxie blocked most with her forearms and wings, but Liam clipped her side once. A shallow hit, but it earned him a growl that echoed like a beast and a war cry fused.

Then she struck back.

Nyxie leapt into the air, wings spreading just enough to lift her off the ground, then twisted and dive-bombed him. Liam raised his blades to parry—but she fainted mid-air, twisting sideways and slamming her tail into his ribs.

"Ghk—!" Liam skidded back, boots tearing lines into the dirt.

Before he could recover, she was on him again—no pause or mercy. She faked a claw swipe toward his face, and when Liam raised his blade to block, she spun and kneed him in the gut.

"Hahh..." He doubled over slightly, vision flashing white, but instincts kicked in. He rolled back, flipping to his feet, and slashed wide—forcing Nyxie to retreat.

He chuckled darkly as blood ran from a cut on his lip.

"Alright, you got me twice. Guess I'm still too predictable."

Nyxie didn't respond, just tilted her head like a curious predator. Her shadowy form flickered with intensity, muscles coiled with lethal tension.

They clashed again.

This time Liam changed pace—slower and more calculated, drawing her in with lazy movements before exploding with speed. One dagger feinted low, the other aimed for her neck—Nyxie parried with her arm, but Liam twisted the blade and spun around her, slashing across her back.

But as he turned to follow up, her tail whipped under his legs—he flipped mid-air to avoid falling, only to catch her claw across his chest.

Clothes torn. A shallow cut. But it burned with dark heat.

"Oho… trying to humiliate me now, huh?" Liam breathed, heart pounding. "I like that."

They kept going—slashes, kicks, feints, dives. It was chaos, beautiful and wild. Liam's shadow danced with his movements, blades singing through air. Nyxie was relentless, adapting fast, her techniques fluid and evolving. She used her body like a living weapon—wings to block, tail to trap, claws to strike.

She even lured him once—pretending to stumble, only to bait Liam into a close-range trap where she nearly took his head off with a spinning kick.

He blocked it, barely.

"You've gotten crueler," he muttered with a grin, breath ragged.

Nyxie huffed. If she could talk, she might've said, "You said no holding back."

They stood apart for a moment, both breathing hard. Only Liam was marked by cuts and bruises while Nyxie still was normal due to the shadow recovery.

Liam couldn't help but think—

"If this is what I'm facing now… just imagine what I'll fight after Ascension. Moreover, I feel like I'm fighting myself."

His smile widened.

Liam cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, steam rising from his skin. Nyxie crouched, wings tucked in, eyes glowing faintly with feral glee.

"You ready?" Liam muttered, his tone somewhere between challenge and amusement.

Nyxie snarled, lowering her stance in response. That was all the answer he needed.

They clashed again, this time with even more fury.

Claws collided with daggers, their blows echoing across the training ground. Liam ducked under a sweeping claw and retaliated with a spinning slash, the edge of his dagger grazing her shoulder. Nyxie kicked off a wall, swooping overhead and forcing him to backflip away from a dive-bomb.

Liam darted left, then right, his footwork sharp but Nyxie mirrored every move like a phantom. She was faster now, adapting mid-fight, as if each swing taught her something new. One swipe clipped his arm. Another grazed his thigh.

"You're getting arrogant," he said between breaths. "I like that. Let's break that pride a little."

As Nyxie lunged again—claws raised high—Liam dropped into a low stance, both daggers pulsing with concentrated myst.

"Try dodging this."

A ripple of darkness surged from beneath his feet, and in one smooth, deliberate swing of his daggers, Liam activated a technique he had been saving.

"Shadow Rend."

The air trembled.

From that single cross arc of his blades, dozens of shadow strikes burst outward. Each strike was a sliver of darkness sharpened into a blade—fast, invisible, and unrelenting. Nyxie's eyes widened, her form blurring to dodge—but there were too many, coming from all angles.

One strike hit her shoulder. Another clipped her side. Then two more to her legs and wings. It wasn't fatal, but overwhelming. She staggered, unable to reform fast enough, her body losing structure.

A final slice of shadow slid clean through her chest.

Nyxie's form flickered before finally dissolving into smoky strands of shadow. Her humanoid body compressed and shrank. With a tiny poof, she returned to her smaller, cat-like shape.

She fluttered upward in lazy spirals, landing on Liam's shoulder with a dramatic flop.

"Squeeeeek…" she whined in a high-pitched trail of squeaks and chirps.

Liam chuckled and tilted his head, not even bothering to hide the grin tugging at his lips.

"Oh, quit whining," he said. "It's not like you actually feel pain. You're made of my myst, remember?"

She squeaked again—longer this time, as if to say, "But you still didn't have to go that hard!"

"Tch. Drama queen," he muttered, returning his daggers to Void storage. "All those hits I gave you? Already healing thanks to shadow recovery. Meaning my myst is working overtime fixing your shadow body. So technically, I beat you and helped you recover at the same time."

She gave a softer squeak, curling into herself a little. Probably sulking.

Liam smirked and gently scratched behind her horn.

"Still… you did well. Really well," he murmured. "You outmatched me more than a few times. If you could talk, I'd bet you'd be bragging for hours right now."

Nyxie purred quietly in response, her wings folding neatly as she nestled on his shoulder.

Liam looked out at the ground they'd torn apart. Scorch marks from blade strikes. Craters from impact. And as the adrenaline wore off, a strange thought crept into his mind.

"It was like fighting myself… but wilder. Smarter in a primal kind of way. Like she knew what I'd do before I even did it."

The thought gnawed at him.

She was his creation. Built from his myst. Sharpened by his will. Was this what his potential looked like—if stripped of restraint?

He exhaled slowly. He was about to call it a night when a voice, smooth as velvet, floated from the shadows.

"Impressive… very impressive, Liam."

He turned, instantly recognizing the teasing, honeyed voice.

Lady Seraphina Vale stepped out from the darkness. Midnight-green hair fell around her, and her eyes gleamed with that usual mix of mischief and menace. Her figure was draped in a long coat with silver threading, cut to hint at elegance and danger in equal measure.