28. Frankie

Chapter 28

Frankie

I’m still buzzing from last night with Leo and Matteo. God, just thinking about it makes me all tingly, but reality’s a bitch, and this morning, it’s slapping me in the face. Still, I can’t help smiling as I head to class. Those two are definitely complicating my life, but maybe in a good way.

Tori and I are nothing more than two roommates waiting for the weekend to relax, which we both need. Luckily, it’s the end of the week after the first semester back from the holiday break.

My whole schedule keeps getting adjusted as I enter the shadow realm and shift. This morning, I’m in a new class with a Professor Everett—no last name.

That in itself should have been a red flag.

I slide into a seat at the back, my nerves doing the cha-cha. It’s my first time in Everett’s class on ancient shadow whatever, and I’m not sure what to expect. After what happened with Nyx, and how my powers seem to be growing, I’m hoping this class will give me some answers or at least stop me from accidentally opening portals to who knows where every time I sneeze.

Students are filing in, chattering away. The room smells like old books and dust, and there’s this weird tension in the air that’s making me antsy.

The classroom itself is unlike any other I’ve seen on campus. The walls are dark wood with crazy carvings. I swear they move when I’m not looking directly at them. Shelves laden with strange artifacts and ancient tomes line the walls, their spines bearing titles in languages I can’t even begin to decipher.

Professor Everett strides to the front, his presence immediately commanding attention. His eyes sweep the room, pausing briefly on me with a subtle nod of acknowledgment. The fluorescent lights flicker slightly as he passes, as if they bend to his will.

He looks disheveled and yet somehow put together, wearing loose jeans, open-toed sandals, and an untucked shirt. Top his ensemble off with a tweed coat, and he is the quintessential eccentric professor. Even his hair is a mess. He looks like he’s in his mid-thirties with ancient eyes.

A moment later, Dorian comes in behind him, an odd little smile on his face. Those fog blue eyes catch mine and hold them for a few beats, sending a thrill up my spine as he walks to the front of the class and sits in the spot reserved for TAs. His presence seems to darken the shadows in the room.

I swear Dorian’s thirst for knowledge is almost problematic.

“Alright, class,” Professor Everett begins, sounding way too excited for a Monday morning. “We’re diving into some old junk today that’s going to mess with everything you think you know about shadow shifters. Fair warning—this stuff might freak you out a bit.”

Professor Everett’s hands hover over an ancient wooden box, its surface a maze of scars and cryptic symbols. As he lifts the lid, the hinges wail a rusty protest. The sound scrapes against my nerves, setting my teeth on edge.

Professor Everett pulls out a mirror that’s just... wrong. It’s old and black, and the glass moves like it’s alive. It’s not reflecting light—it’s eating it. My skin crawls just looking at it.

“The Mirror of Nyx,” Everett murmurs, his voice slithering into every shadowed corner of the room. “Its reflections have shattered minds and unraveled sanities. Who dares to peer into its depths?”

Suddenly, it’s freezing in here. I’m getting goosebumps, and I’m trying not to shiver. What the hell is that thing? Chairs scrape against the floor as students lean away. Fabric rustles as shoulders hunch and arms wrap protectively around torsos.

Nobody says a word. It’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop, then a few brave souls raise their hands, but they are shaking like leaves.

Professor Everett’s gaze sweeps the room, settling on a student in the front row. The chosen one’s spine snaps straight. His eyes, however, remain fixed on the mirror, as if mesmerized by its shifting surface.

“The mirror,” the guy stammers, looking like he might puke. “It’s supposed to show stuff about the Umbra Bellators… You know, those legendary shadow warriors. Everyone thought their powers were a gift from the gods or whatever, but?—”

“Enough.” Professor Everett’s voice cracks like a whip. He raises the mirror, its surface now a void, drinking in the ambient light. “A pretty tale, oft repeated, but what if this artifact reveals a truth far less... palatable?”

The mirror seems to pulse in his grip, as if alive and hungry. My stomach clenches, a primal part of me wanting to flee whatever terrible secret that glass might reflect.

“Look,” Professor Everett says, leaning in like he’s about to spill some major gossip, “the real story behind our powers? It’s way messier and darker than what your textbooks say.”

He places the mirror face down on his desk, and I feel a collective sigh of relief from the class, but the reprieve is short-lived.

“The Umbra Bellators didn’t receive their powers as a gift,” he says, slowly pacing in front of the class. “They took them by force from Nyx herself.”

A chill runs down my spine. I glance at Dorian, but his expression is unreadable, his eyes fixed on Professor Everett.

“Ancient shadow beings, older than time itself, were trapped and... harvested,” Professor Everett continues. “Their essence, their souls, were extracted and bound to human hosts. The process was excruciating for both parties.”

The room falls deathly silent, and I can hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. My palms are sweaty, and I resist the urge to wipe them on my jeans.

“But the Umbra Bellators’s thirst for power didn’t end there.” Professor Everett’s voice drops even lower, compelling us to lean in despite our fear. “They sought to challenge Nyx herself to steal the very source of shadow magic.”

He picks up the mirror again, its surface now roiling like a stormy sea. “Nyx’s retaliation was as swift as it was terrible. She cursed the Umbra Bellators, binding a part of their essence to this mirror. Now, those who peer into its depths are forced to confront a secret truth about themselves, the nature of their power, and the price of their ambition.”

I think of the thrill I feel when I shift, the intoxicating rush of power. Is that the curse at work? Am I being slowly consumed by the shadows I command?

“This curse messes with us in all sorts of ways,” Professor Everett says, eyeing us. “Our powers aren’t free. There’s this darkness that creeps into us, and if we’re not careful, it’ll eat us alive.”

When his gaze meets mine, I feel exposed, as if he can see right through me to the shadows lurking beneath my skin.

“The Nyx’s mirror is a testament to the folly of unchecked ambition,” Professor Everett concludes, his voice resonating with grim finality. “It forces us to confront the darkness within and acknowledge the terrible price of our power. Who among you is brave enough—or foolish enough—to face that truth?”

The silence that follows is deafening. We sit, frozen in our seats, each of us grappling with the weight of this revelation and the terrifying possibility of what the mirror might show us.

Professor Everett smirks. “Now is the perfect segue to introduce the goddess Nyx.”

My breath catches. I think of the dark, powerful presence I encountered and the name that echoed in my mind—Nyx. The shadows in the corners of the room seem to deepen at the mention of her name.

Professor Everett’s eyes twinkle with barely contained excitement as he holds up the obsidian mirror. His fingers, weathered but nimble, trace the ancient frame. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping to a stage whisper that somehow fills the room, “let’s uncover the real truth about shadow shifters.”

With a dramatic flourish that sends his untucked shirt flapping, Professor Everett raises the mirror. “Behold, the true origins of our kind!”

The mirror’s surface ripples like disturbed water. Suddenly, inky tendrils of shadow burst forth, coalescing into ghostly images that dance across the classroom walls. I gasp along with my classmates, some scrambling back in their seats.

“Easy there.” Professor Everett chuckles, looking for all the world like he’s hosting a mildly amusing dinner party rather than unleashing ancient magic. “They are just shadows... probably.”

The shadowy display sharpens, revealing scenes of a world in its infancy. Light and darkness swirl together, neither existing without the other. My heart races at the sight, a strange sense of familiarity stirring within me.

“You see,” Professor Everett says, casually perching on his desk as if he didn’t just turn our classroom into a supernatural cinema, “we shadow shifters are old. Older than old. We’re talking beginning of time old.”

A classmate in the front row, wide-eyed and pale, raises a trembling hand. “Sir, are you saying we’ve always existed?”

Professor Everett’s eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise. “Always existed? My dear boy, we’re the very embodiment of cosmic duality!” He grins, the shadows from the mirror casting strange patterns across his face. “Light and dark, yin and yang, day and night. We’re the living, breathing personification of that eternal dance.”

The shadows swirl again, coalescing into the form of a towering woman, her hair a cascade of the night sky. “Nyx,” Professor Everett whispers, his usual joviality giving way to genuine awe. “The goddess of night, the mother of shadow.”

As if responding to her name, the shadow Nyx turns her gaze upon us. I flinch involuntarily, feeling the weight of her ancient stare.

“Oh, come now,” Professor Everett chides, though his own voice holds a note of reverence. “Show some respect. It’s because of her generosity that we have our gifts.”

The image shifts, showing Nyx bestowing shadows upon human-like figures, their forms shimmering as they embrace their new powers. I feel a tingle in my fingertips, as if my own shadows are responding to the display.

“Contrary to what some misinformed texts might tell you,” Professor Everett continues, his voice taking on a more serious tone, “our abilities weren’t stolen or taken by force. They were given freely and with purpose by Nyx herself. The other guys, though, they totally stole their gifts.”

A hush falls over the classroom as the implications sink in. The shadows on the walls seem to pulse with newfound significance. I find myself holding my breath, the weight of this revelation settling over me like a cloak.

Professor Everett’s eyes sweep over us, and he has this knowing smirk that makes me squirm. “So next time you shift, remember you’re not just messing around with shadows, you’re tapping into something ancient, a gift straight from Nyx herself— magic .”

My stomach does a little flip. Nyx. I can still feel her presence and hear her voice in my head from that day. Was that what I felt? Some kind of primordial connection? It’s both awesome and terrifying to think about.

He claps his hands together, dispersing a small cloud of shadow that gathered there. “Now then,” he says, his tone lightening, “who’s ready to embrace their cosmic heritage with some hands-on learning?”

I feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension bubble up inside me. As Professor Everett begins to pace the room, mirror in hand and shadows swirling in his wake, I realize this is no ordinary history lesson. This is a revelation about our nature and our place in the cosmic order.

Looking around at my classmates’ faces, I can see the same awe and uncertainty I feel reflected back at me. One thing is certain—none of us will leave this classroom the same.

I can’t help myself. My hand shoots up, my curiosity overriding my usual caution.

“Yes, Frankie?” Professor Everett says, a glimmer in his eye.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. The words tumble out, charged with an intensity that surprises even me. “If Nyx was so important, why don’t we learn about her? Is there a reason we’ve been kept in the dark about this... deeper connection to shadows? And how does it relate to our current abilities?”

Professor Everett’s smile is approving, but there’s a hint of wariness in his eyes. He places the mirror down gently, its surface still swirling with darkness, and picks up an ancient-looking scroll. The parchment crackles as he unrolls it, releasing a scent of age and secrets.

“Excellent questions, Frankie. This scroll contains prophecies and lore about Nyx. Anyone want to take a stab at why it might have been hidden away?”

The class is silent for a moment, then a girl near the front speaks up, her voice trembling slightly. “Maybe because it was easier to control people by focusing on fighting? If everyone thought power came from physical strength instead of... wisdom or whatever, then it would be easier for the strongest to stay in charge.”

“An astute observation.” Professor Everett nods, his eyes gleaming. “Anyone else?”

A boy in the back raises his hand, his face pale. “What if there’s a reason this history was buried? What if knowing it puts us all in danger?”

The discussion that follows is heated, tinged with an undercurrent of fear. Some students argue that the warrior tales must be true, and that we would know if there had been some goddess worshiping matriarchy. Others point out how much of our history has been lost or deliberately obscured. The temperature in the room seems to drop as the debate intensifies.

I listen, my mind whirling. Could this explain the pull I’ve felt toward the shadows? The sense of a greater, more primal power than just the ability to fight? My skin tingles with an energy I can’t quite explain.

Professor Everett guides the debate skillfully, never quite taking sides but pushing us to question our assumptions. As the class winds down, he leaves us with a final thought.

“History is written by the victors and rewritten by those who come after. It’s up to each of you to seek the truth beneath the stories you’ve been told. These artifacts are windows into our past, but it’s your job to interpret what you see. Remember, knowledge is power, but power always comes with a price.”

His gaze lingers on me for a moment, and I have the distinct impression he’s trying to tell me something. The weight of his words settles over the class like a heavy blanket.

Unfortunately, the bell rings. “Looks like class is over.”

For the first time in a while, the groans are because no one wants to leave class.

As students begin to file out, still arguing amongst themselves in hushed, nervous tones, Professor Everett calls out, “Oh, and one last thing. There’s an old prophecy in this scroll about twin shadow shifters who would bring great change. It’s probably just another story, but it’s something to think about.”

My heart skips a beat. Twins?

As I gather my things, still lost in thought, I notice Dorian watching me intently. His gaze is piercing, as if he can see right through me. I’m about to approach him when a sudden chill sweeps through the room.

The shadows in the corners begin to writhe and twist unnaturally. An oppressive feeling of dread settles over us, and the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Something’s wrong.

Suddenly, there’s chaos in the hallway. Screams echo off the walls, followed by this bone-chilling growl that can only be a shadow beast. As the sound hits me, I’m thrown back into that storm we saw in the shadow realm. Is this connected? Are the threats following us into our world now? My heart’s pounding, but there’s also this weird sense of... readiness, like I’ve been waiting for this shoe to drop.

Everyone freezes for a moment, then panic sets in. Students rush for the exits, pushing and shoving. The scent of fear is palpable, sharp, and acrid in the air.

I’m torn between the instinct to run and the pull to help. Professor Everett’s voice cuts through the chaos, steady and commanding.

“Everyone, stay calm! Head for the nearest safe room. Those with combat training, prepare to defend if necessary.”

A smaller shadow beast, about the size of a large dog, bursts into the classroom. Its eyes glow an eerie red, and darkness seems to roll off its form like smoke. The temperature plummets, and I see my breath misting in the air.

Without thinking, I step forward, placing myself between the beast and the fleeing students. I can feel the shadows responding to my call, coiling around my arms like living tendrils.

Suddenly, Leo bursts into the room, his eyes wild with concern. “Frankie!” he shouts, rushing toward me, but as he tries to summon his shadows to help, they flicker and dissipate, refusing to obey his command. Frustration and fear flash across his face as he realizes he can’t control his abilities.

Shadow shifters aren’t supposed to be able to use their gifts here in the human realm, but I can.

“Leo, stay back!” I yell, my focus split between him and the snarling beast before me.

The beast lunges toward me. I throw up a barrier of shadows, not solid but disorienting enough to make it stumble. The air crackles with energy, and I taste metal on my tongue.

“Frankie, be careful!” Professor Everett shouts, moving to flank the creature. His eyes are wide with a mix of fear and fascination.

Something feels... off. The beast’s aggression doesn’t feel natural. Its eyes are wild, almost panicked. On a hunch, I reach out with my senses, trying to connect with it the way I did with my shadow wolves.

I’m hit with a wave of confusion and fear. This creature isn’t attacking out of malice. It’s terrified, lashing out blindly. I can feel its terror at being ripped from its home in the shadow realm as if it were my own.

“Wait!” I call out to Professor Everett, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. “I think I can calm it down!”

Keeping my shadow barrier up, I focus on projecting feelings of safety and peace. It’s like trying to soothe a frightened animal, but on a much deeper level. As I reach out to it, I feel a pull, as if the shadows want to draw me in completely. It’s terrifying, exhilarating, and addicting. The darkness around me deepens, and for a moment, I lose sight of the classroom entirely.

Slowly, the beast’s growls subside. Its glowing eyes fix on me, and I feel a tentative connection forming. The air around us seems to pulse with an otherworldly energy.

“That’s it,” I murmur, my voice a mix of comfort and command. “You’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you.”

The beast’s form shimmers, the smoke-like darkness dissipating. With a final whine, it shrinks down to the size of a small cat, then it slinks over to huddle against my legs. Its fur is soft but cold, like touching a shadow given form.

The classroom is silent. I look up to see Professor Everett, Leo, and the few remaining students staring at me in awe. The tension in the air is palpable.

“Well done, Frankie,” Professor Everett says softly, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and something darker. “Very well done indeed.”

Dorian approaches, his intense gaze fixed on me. In a low voice that sends shivers down my spine, he says, “You’ve touched something primal, Frankie. Be careful. Power like that always comes with a price.”

Leo stands nearby, his expression a mix of relief and frustration. “I... I couldn’t help,” he says, his voice tight with anger and disappointment. “My shadows wouldn’t respond.”

As the adrenaline fades, I realize my hands are shaking. I crouch down to scratch the now docile shadow beast behind its ears, my mind reeling. Its purr vibrates through me, a sound that seems to come from the depths of the shadow realm itself.

What just happened? How did I know I could do that? Why do I have the sinking feeling that this is just the beginning of something much bigger?

I meet Professor Everett’s gaze, seeing pride and worry in his eyes. Whatever’s coming, I have a feeling I’m going to need all the help, and all the hidden knowledge, I can get. The shadows around us seem to deepen, as if responding to the weight of the moment, and I can’t shake the feeling that I just took my first step down a very dark path.

As the last of the panicked students clear out, leaving just Professor Everett, Dorian, Leo, and me with the calmed shadow beast, I can’t help but wonder if this attack was random, or if someone or something is testing us. The thought sends a chill down my spine, and I instinctively pull the shadows closer around me like a protective cloak.

Leo moves closer, his eyes fixed on the shadow beast. “How did you do that, Frankie?” he asks. “I couldn’t even get my shadows to respond, but you... you controlled it.”

I shake my head, still unsure myself. “I don’t know, Leo. It just... felt right somehow.”

Professor Everett clears his throat, drawing our attention. “What you just witnessed, Frankie, is an ability thought to be long lost to our kind. The power to communicate with and calm shadow beasts is mentioned in the oldest texts, but I’ve never seen it firsthand.”

His eyes gleam with barely contained excitement as he continues. “This changes everything. If you can control shadow beasts, who knows what other ancient abilities you might possess?”

Dorian steps forward, his expression unreadable. “We should be careful,” he warns, his voice low and intense. “Awakening dormant powers can have... unforeseen consequences.”

I shiver, remembering the pull of the shadows and how close I came to losing myself in them. “What do you mean, unforeseen consequences?”

Before Dorian can answer, Leo interjects, his voice tight with concern. “Frankie, are you okay? You look pale.”

I realize I’m swaying slightly on my feet, exhaustion hitting me like a wave. The shadow beast at my feet whines, pressing closer as if sensing my fatigue.

“I’m fine,” I insist, even as black spots dance at the edges of my vision. “I just need a minute.” I slump into a chair, the small beast lying down between my feet.

“Uncle,” Dorian calls to the professor.

“Uncle?” My eyebrows reach my hairline.

Professor Everett’s eyes widen slightly, darting between Dorian and me, then he clears his throat. “Ah, yes. I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now.” He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, looking suddenly more human than the enigmatic professor of moments before.

“Dorian is my brother’s son,” Professor Everett explains, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “We thought it best to keep our relationship quiet, given the... sensitive nature of some of the topics we’ll discuss in class.”

“He isn’t even a shadow shifter.” Dorian continues to eye me like I might fall over, and I know they are all just standing around making small talk in case that happens.

“What—”

Dorian and Professor Everett look at each other then me. “It’s best to leave that story for another day.” Professor Everett kneels before me. “How do you feel?”

I shrug a shoulder. “Okay, just sleepy.” I yawn, proving my point, and a wave of dizziness washes over me.

“Whoa there,” Leo says, steadying me with a hand on my shoulder. His touch sends a jolt through me, momentarily clearing the fog in my head.

Dorian steps closer, his fog blue eyes intense. “Using new abilities can be draining, especially ones as powerful as what you just displayed. You need rest.”

As if to emphasize his point, the shadow beast at my feet lets out a small whine, nuzzling against my leg.

“I guess I have a new pet,” I mutter as the creature looks up at me.

I swear the creature smiles.