ShadowBound: The Need For Power-Chapter 356: What If?

Back at the Dark Knight Academy, just outside the dormitory building where Magnus, Mystica, and Ariana stood, the air hung still. The carefree gleam in Magnus’s eyes vanished the instant Mystica spoke.

"You’re joking, right?" he muttered, barely audible.

"I wish I were," Mystica replied grimly. "But I think we just watched Sheila get handed over to Sylvathar... and didn’t even realize it."

The atmosphere around Magnus shifted instantly. His expression darkened, eyes narrowing into a dangerous calm. Then, without warning, he turned and slammed his fist into the dormitory wall. A sharp crack echoed across the grounds as spiderweb fractures spread out from the impact, the entire building quivering under the force.

"FUCK!" he roared.

"Magnus, calm down!" Mystica said, startled by the sudden outburst. Ariana flinched, eyes wide in a mix of shock and confusion.

"It’s not your fault," Mystica continued quickly. "You couldn’t have known."

"Bullshit!" Magnus snapped, spinning to face her, his voice laced with fury. "They were right here. I shook both their damn hands. I even joked with them. Gods above, I should’ve just lopped their heads off the moment they got close."

His fingers twitched with barely restrained rage, his other hand raking through his hair. "Now an innocent girl’s life is on the line—because I was too busy being a fucking clown."

"Magnus," Mystica said gently, stepping closer, "I get it. You’re pissed at yourself. But blowing up right now? That won’t help her. If anything, it’ll only slow us down."

For a long beat, he said nothing. Then, finally, he let out a sharp exhale and dropped his shoulders.

"Yeah... yeah, you’re right," he muttered. "I lost it for a sec there."

He turned back to her, forcing his usual grin onto his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "That was dumb of me. Sorry, Moony. And sorry to you too, little Ariana. You shouldn’t have had to see that."

Ariana stood silently, lips parting like she meant to say something, but no words came. Her brows were pinched, eyes wide and uncertain.

Mystica noticed and knelt slightly to meet her gaze. "Ari," she said softly, voice calm and reassuring. "Are you okay?"

Ariana blinked, then nodded slowly. "Uh... yeah. Yeah, I’m fine."

"Good," Mystica said, brushing a strand of hair from the girl’s face. "Now listen to me, sweetheart. I need you to grab your things and go home. Straight to your mom and dad, alright?"

Ariana hesitated. "But I... there’s so much I want to ask—"

"I know," Mystica said gently, cutting her off. "And we’ll talk. I promise. Just not now. When this is over, we’ll have all the time in the world, okay?"

Ariana gave a small, uncertain nod. "Yeah... sure. I’ll go."

"Thank you, star," Mystica said, kissing her forehead. "Now go on. I’ll have two knights waiting to take you safely home."

She gave Ariana a light push toward the doors, and the girl turned and walked away, glancing back just once.

As she disappeared inside, Magnus leaned in slightly toward Mystica and whispered, "You think she’s alright?"

"No," Mystica answered truthfully. "But she’s not weak enough to break from this. Ariana’s tougher than she looks. She’ll be fine."

Mystica then pulled a communication crystal from her belt, murmuring into it. Moments later, two armored knights arrived, clad in the colors of the Dark Knight Academy.

"Lady Moonstone," one said, his voice deep and edged with experience, "you called for us?"

"Yes," Mystica replied. "I want you two stationed right here. When my apprentice, Ariana Merdin, comes out, you escort her home. Directly. No detours."

She gave them both a chilling look. "If anything happens to her... you’ll pray your bones turn to ash before I find you. Understood?"

"Yes, ma’am!" both knights answered immediately, saluting without hesitation.

"Good." Mystica turned toward Magnus. "Come on. We’re leaving."

"Where to?" he asked, already stepping in behind her as she summoned a swirling portal of arcane light.

"Tynoon," she said simply, her tone grim.

With no more words, the two stepped into the portal, vanishing in a flash of magic.

***

Back at the Tempest Palace, in Liam’s chamber, the air was still and heavy with unspoken tension.

Liam sat alone on one of the couches, his body leaned back, head tilted slightly, eyes closed—not asleep, but unmoving, as if lost deep in thought. Not a word had left his lips since Lucy departed. Not even a glance.

Across the room, Mabel stood by the wall near the door, in her usual place—like a silent sentinel. Her eyes, however, rarely left Liam. She tracked his breathing, his posture and his silence.

’He’s been like that since Her Majesty left. Hasn’t moved. Hasn’t spoken,’ she thought, narrowing her gaze. ’At first, I thought he was asleep, but now... I’m not so sure.’

A moment passed.

’Maybe he’s just worried about Princess Sheila, like the rest of us.’ Her brows twitched faintly. ’Though, now that I think about it... the way he reacted, how intense he got—it almost makes you wonder if there’s something more going on between them.’

That last thought hit her like a pebble cracking glass—small, but precise.

She blinked, straightened slightly. Then clenched her jaw.

’Damn it... What am I even thinking? What does it matter if there was something between them? I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I can’t be feeling like this.’

She took a quiet breath, centering herself again. Her posture corrected; her face steeled behind the half-mask.

Then:

"Hey, Mabel," Liam’s voice broke the silence, low and even.

She jolted, a hair too sharp in her reaction—but her mask covered her face well. Her hazel eyes snapped toward him. He was now leaning forward, elbows on his knees, finally moving from that rigid stillness.

"Yes? Anything you need?" she asked, her tone neutral and composed.

"I do need something," Liam said, his voice calm—but with a note of hesitation. "But... don’t take it the wrong way."

Mabel’s eyes narrowed just a fraction.

’What the hell does he mean, "don’t take it the wrong way"?’ she thought, alarm bells ringing in her head. ’If he says anything remotely off, I swear I’ll—’

"Just get on with it, Liam," she said out loud, her tone sharper than she intended.

He didn’t seem fazed.

"If you were someone attuned to nature," he began, "and you had your own goals... but you didn’t want to be found or involved with others—where would you hide?"

Mabel blinked.

Then blinked again.

A long pause followed as her brain processed the question. It wasn’t what she expected. At all.

Of all the things he could’ve asked, this?

"That’s... oddly specific," she muttered, caught completely off guard. "I thought you were about to say something dumb for a second."

Liam arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

The awkwardness lingered in the air, stretching the silence between them like a taut string.

Mabel cleared her throat and crossed her arms.

"Well... if it were me," she said slowly, "and I wanted isolation with a connection to nature, I’d hide somewhere off-grid. A Myst-dense forest, maybe. A remote ruin overrun by the elements. Or somewhere deep in the mountain ranges where only animals would roam."

Her voice steadied as she fell into thought. "Anywhere wild enough that no one would bother searching... but also a place that keeps you close to the flow of Myst. That kind of attunement isn’t easy to maintain in cities."

Liam nodded slightly. "Makes sense."

Another beat of silence.

"Why?" she asked, voice lowering a little. "Who are you thinking about?"

Liam didn’t respond right away. He leaned back once more, eyes drifting toward the high ceiling, his expression unreadable, but the weight in his voice was clear when he finally spoke.

"Sylvathar... I can’t pinpoint a fixed location," he murmured. "But I have a few guesses."

Mabel’s gaze stayed on him a second longer than necessary. She wanted to press for more—to make him explain—but she didn’t. It wasn’t her place... at least, that’s what she told herself.

’He always drops just enough to pull you in, but never enough to piece anything together,’ she thought with faint frustration. ’Like he’s dangling answers just out of reach.’

She let out a slow, quiet breath, then shifted back to her post by the wall. Before she turned away completely, she stole one last glance at Liam.

’I’m certain now... he really does care about the Crescent Princess. Whether he admits it or not.’

Then his voice cut through her thoughts.

"Hey."

She turned her head slightly. "What is it?"

"Are there any other places in Amthar saturated with Myst, aside from forests?" he asked, his tone thoughtful.

Mabel blinked. The question was a bit out of nowhere, but it wasn’t unusual for Liam to jump topics without warning.

"Well... not really," she said, crossing her arms as she thought. "Aside from naturally dense forests, there’s the Rift Point—where demons cross into Amthar—and the Western Region itself. But that’s about it."

"The Land of Ruins..." Liam muttered, his crimson eyes narrowing with a trace of realization. "Of course."

Mabel straightened slightly, her posture tensing. "You think Sylvathar’s hiding there?"

"Probably," Liam replied.

"I doubt it," she said immediately.

Liam raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because outside of the Rift Point, the rest of the Western Region is barren," Mabel said coolly. "Nothing but scorched land, cursed soil, and storms of corrupted Myst. It’s a wasteland, Liam. No resources. No cover. No life. Sylvathar—Gaia Demon Lord or not—wouldn’t set up base in a place that exposes him to every direction."

Liam studied her carefully, clearly turning her words over in his mind. After a moment, he leaned forward.

"But... what if he’s masking it?" he asked. "What if he cast a veil—something strong enough to distort the flow of Myst itself and conceal his presence entirely?"

Follow current novels on freewe(b)novel.c(o)m