Xaren adjusted the collar of his uniform as he stepped into the school corridor. The sunlight filtering through the dusty windows lit up the world in streaks of gold, but he walked through it like it didn't matter. The old orphan boy—the boy who once had bruises instead of confidence—was long gone.
Now, there was Xaren: leaner, taller, sharper. The kind of boy who didn't just walk into a room; he shifted the atmosphere.
His shadow followed him closely, unseen to all but him—a wry and prideful creature born of darkness and secrets.
"You know," the beast said with a smug rumble, "Seren -the brooding demon god probably has better things to do than babysit you."
Xaren smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. That voice again. Always so dramatic.
"You really love flattering him, don't you?"
"I'm not flattering. I'm recognizing divine efficiency," the shadow replied. "You? You're more like a newborn puppy with fangs. Still adorable, but liable to bite the wrong ankles."
Xaren chuckled under his breath. It had become routine—the constant bickering with his beast. But lately, there was more. Laughter and Camaraderie.
The school hallway felt different now. He watched others—how they gathered, who they listened to, who they ignored. He saw the flow of influence, like rivers beneath the floor. The classroom hierarchies. The silences, the fake laughs. And the real fear wasn't about strength here; it was about understanding the game.
He played it quietly not to dominate but just to learn.
"Do you see that?" Xaren whispered mentally.
A cluster of students surrounded a boy who always laughed the loudest. But he didn't speak the most. That was someone else who was someone quiet, always standing just behind.
"The loud one isn't the leader," Xaren observed "The one who whispers in his ear is."
"Ah, the old 'power behind the throne' trick," the shadow beast mused"You're learning, little charmer."
The nickname made Xaren roll his eyes. "Don't call me that."
"Why not? You've got the looks now. That bone structure? Those eyes? Seren might've trained your muscles, but I think the universe shaped your jawline."
Xaren snorted with a grin, leaning on a nearby locker "You sound jealous."
"Jealous? I am a being of pure aesthetic shadow. I have horns made of starlight and a voice that can seduce the void. What do I have to be jealous of?"
"You can't even materialize," Xaren teased.
"I choose not to. Mystery is a stronger weapon."
As the day unfolded, Xaren continued to observe. He didn't engage unless necessary. But when he did, people listened. Something in the way he stood—calm, unbothered which made them feel like they had to.
He didn't push when he talked he pulled.
In class, he answered just enough questions to seem capable. In the cafeteria, he sat near people of interest, listening more than talking. A small comment here. A faint smile there. He wasn't building a reputation—he was mapping the ecosystem.
His shadow beast noticed "You're becoming more than a follower. Seren was right to step back and leave you alone."
"Sometimes," Xaren said thoughtfully, "it's scarier when someone lets go of your hand. You realize how far you're expected to walk."
"And yet here you are walking just fine."
That night, Xaren sat on the rooftop of the orphanage. The moon hung low, and the city blinked beneath him like a tired eye.
He crossed his arms, staring into the distance.
"Do you think Seren's watching?"
The beast was quiet for a moment "He gave you a name. That's more than most ever get. Maybe he's watching , maybe not."
Xaren leaned back, sighing with a half-smile "I hope I'm doing it right."
"You're not supposed to do it right," the beast said "You're supposed to do it your way. That's why he stopped ordering you around. Seren doesn't need mindless followers. He wants monsters who choose to follow him."
Xaren laughed softly "You've been reading too much poetry."
"I am poetry."
Xaren rolled his eyes "Sure you are."
As the wind stirred his hair, he received a sharp pulse in his mind. Not painful, but undeniable—a ripple in his core.
A message from him.
He sat up straight, eyes narrowing.
"Find those who are awakening. Gather them and make them follow you ."
The words weren't loud. They weren't harsh. They didn't need to be. They rang with an authority that felt ancient.
"After months…" Xaren whispered. "He finally reached out."
His shadow beast growled softly, pleased "Looks like the real game begins."
Xaren stood, pulling on his jacket. His reflection in the glass door looked different now than before older and colder but still smiling.
"Yes," he said "Let's begin."