The tattoo on his back contracted again and froze in a new form — not a blotch, not a circle. A clear silhouette of a serpentine dragon wrapping around his shoulder blade and sliding down his spine.
Kalen collapsed on his side, breathing heavily.
"Fuck," he breathed. "I can't even just walk around the Academy. No, I have to bring some inner demon dragon to life..."
He lay there, feeling his skin slowly cool.
The black dragon hovered in the air, as if it were made of smoke and dust. Its eyes, as scarlet as blood on snow, peered at Kalen, not just with a look of study, but as an executioner would look at a condemned man, deciding whether to strike him down immediately or to give him a little more pain.
"You're strange," he said at last. "I can't tell if you're human or not."
Kalen clenched his teeth, feeling his heart about to burst out of his chest.
"Well, that's fucked up. Even my personal demon doubts my humanity. Can you explain what the hell is going on first, and then we can discuss existential questions?"
The dragon didn't pay attention. His voice became quieter, but more intense, like blows to the inner skull.
"Listen carefully, boy. I am not just a symbol or an ornament. I am a living seal. And seals do not tolerate the weak. If a tattoo associated with the Shadow is awakened in a person who cannot bear its power... it comes to life. And it kills the bearer. Quickly. Or slowly."
He began to circle around Kallen slowly, like an animal watching.
"You shouldn't have survived. Not with that much power. Not with that much Shadow. It's... abnormal. Either you're a fluke. Or you're one of those who break the rules."
Kallen rose to his feet, staggering but standing. He looked directly into the flaming eyes.
"So what now? Do you want to stab me? Or will you whisper riddles like all those magical bastards?"
The flame in the dragon's chest flared up. He froze again.
"I won't kill you yet. I want to know what you are. If you're human, you'll burn. If you're not... maybe you can lead me out. Maybe you can be the one to give us form."
He flew closer, and Kalen felt every muscle in his stomach contract.
"Remember. I am not your friend. I am not your ally. I am a test. If you become vulnerable, I will devour you from the inside."
"Fascinating," Kalen said hoarsely. "Like a new family. Only with teeth."
The dragon laughed. The laughter was dry as the dust of centuries.
"Learn, Kalen Lionheart."
The dragon's body crumbled into smoke and returned to its skin, and the tattoo on its back flared up again. This time, it was a dragon curled into a ring, with its mouth open at the base of its neck.
Kalen was left alone.
When the dragon disappeared and silence returned, Kalen was left alone. He exhaled deeply, his fingers trembling. The tattoo on his back still burned, pulsating with every heartbeat.
He took a step forward, and the floor suddenly shook.
A dull rumble echoed in the sky, and Kallen turned around, but there was nothing behind him. The slab he had stepped on had closed, as if it had never existed. The stone was smooth. The magic had disappeared. It was as if there had never been an entrance.
- Fuck…
He slammed his fist into the wall, a dull, echoing thud. The stone didn't move. The lights went out. For a few seconds, he stood in complete darkness, his heart pounding in his ears.
Click.
The first lantern flared up in the distance, a greenish, ghostly flame. Then the second. The third. They lit up one by one, leading deeper into the narrow tunnel.
— Yeah. Sure. Why not go get the fucking lanterns from the abyss? Genius. Fucking awesome.
He straightened his shirt, turned, and walked away. The stone beneath his feet was smooth, but there was a hint of dampness and something ancient in the air. It was thick, like the darkness before a storm.
And soon the first hall.
The lanterns stopped at a massive archway with engraved inscriptions in a language Kallen didn't know, but... understood. Magic whispered the translation in his head:
"A test of will. Pass. Or break."
— Great. And what happens at the end? A free death ticket?
He went in.
Inside is a room with no windows, but with mirrored walls. In the center is a chair. And next to it... is himself. His exact copy. The same look, the same posture, even the same brokenness inside.
"Fuck, why do I need a psychologist when I have magical introspection?"
The copy looked up.
"You're a nobody," Kalen said, looking straight into his own soul. "And you know it."
"Fuck you," he breathed back, clenching his fists.
The test has begun.