Dominic Blackwood POVThe halls of Paranormal High smelled of rain and parchment the night I cast my final exam spell. The auditorium echoed with the hiss of magic circles, dozens of students attempting their incantations, but my focus was sharp as a blade.The runes I carved in the air glowed pitch black — dangerous, volatile, but controlled. Controlled by me. My magic was silence, command, inevitability. When the final sigil burned itself into existence, the room went dark, every candle snuffed out.And then, one by one, each flame reignited, brighter, whiter. A perfect execution of Umbralis Lux, the forbidden counterbalance of shadow and light.Professor Halden’s monocle nearly fell off. “By the gods,” he whispered. “Perfection.”The others clapped nervously. None of them had dared attempt the spell. None except me.At the back of the hall, my friend Samuel Johnson — tall, broad-shouldered, still boyish in his grin — clapped the loudest.“That’s my Blackwood!” he shouted, his voice
Last Updated : 2025-10-08 Read more