Shadow slave: In The Eye of The Beholder

The hum of the academy buzzed around Silas as he moved through the halls. The golden string beneath his fingertip felt bizarre, its texture shifting between smoothness and a rough, gravel-like coarseness—sensations foreign to anything he'd ever experienced. Each part of the string seemed to carry its own weight, its own story.

Curiosity burning within him, Silas exerted a little more force, watching as the ethereal thread bent slightly under his touch. But as he pressed further, he noticed the growing resistance. The more he tried to manipulate the thread, the harder it became to alter its course. A question gnawed at the back of his mind: how far could he push it before the thread became completely immovable? 

He let himself question the idea before coming to the conclusion, 

'Might as well try now' 

with that he pinched the string of the fellow sleeper that he had been shifting, and strode in the right exit of a intersecting hallway, the string in the end, no matter what he did seemed anchored to its final path, but that just lead the string in having a bend in its eventual road. 

He kept pulling the string along, at the start it was relatively easy, but as soon as he crossed the three-meter mark it started to become more difficult, he first grasped the string instead of pinching it and kept walking. 

Silas got another three meters before it began to much for his wrist, so he went with both hands grasping at the contradicting textures and pulled. 

Passersby began to notice him, staring at the odd sight of a boy seemingly tugging at nothing. Silas felt their eyes on him, but their curiosity didn't faze him. He'd endured far worse attention before, and no look or whisper would convince him to abandon his investigation.

His palms stung as he pulled, the rough texture of the string biting into his skin. The pain barely registered—his entire focus was on the golden thread. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, his pale skin flushing with a light pink hue as blood rushed to his head and hands.

By now, the string barely moved at all, resisting his efforts like an unyielding tether. The force pulling against him made him wonder if it would snap back the moment he let go, like a stretched rubber band ready to recoil.

'God, am I going to be sent flying by this thing?' The thought brought a mix of concern and morbid curiosity. It would be quite the sight to see him suddenly launched across the hallway, seemingly by nothing at all. The image of it almost made him chuckle, despite the strain.

As his muscles finally gave up on him, Silas decided to release the string. He couldn't pull it any further, so he might as well see what happened when he let go.

Squinting in anticipation, he felt the ethereal texture slip from his fingers. Cool air brushed over his grated palm as he fully opened his eyes.

To his surprise, the string, despite its elastic resistance earlier, remained completely frozen in place. All the potential energy he had felt seemed to vanish the instant he let go. Silas's gaze followed the altered thread—it exited the hallway's intersection, bending sharply to the right about fourteen meters ahead before curving back to the left.

He had managed to affect the path more than he expected, though clearly limited by his strength. It made him wonder—if he gained more power through a memory, could he move it even further?

It exited the hallways intersection, then bent around fourteen meters to the right, before curving back to the left exit of the hallway, it seemed that he had been able to alter the path by quite a bit, but it was all limited by his strength, so if he received a memory which boosted such strength, could he move it further?

He pondered it for a little bit, the only thing he on him like that was [Frenzy] but unlike the relatively empty fields of wheat, if he activated it he might start go crazy and kill people around him, such a use of the enchantment was only going to be reserved for certain situations. 

'I don't want to experience the feeling of getting my mind consumed again, or if ever frankly' Silas shivered, although the boost in power to himself was amazing, the loss of sanity and general risk of losing himself forever was not. 

He thought of [Empowerment] lingered in his mind for a moment longer. While the power boost it granted was invaluable, Silas knew he couldn't rely on it consistently. It was tied to his will, and though he prided himself on its strength, he couldn't guarantee it would always be enough—especially without the adrenaline of a true nightmare to push him to his limits.

He sighed, shaking off the heaviness of those memories. For now, there was no immediate danger, and he'd rather not dwell on the distant threat of another nightmare.

Silas turned his attention back to the altered string, following its twisting path with his eyes. His curiosity piqued as he traced its journey down the corridor. Someone would soon walk this way, following the thread's new course.

'Time to see who I've been toying with,' he thought, a small grin creeping onto his face. He started down the hallway, keeping a steady pace as he approached the bend where the string led.

In the bustling hallway, it took Silas a moment to pick out the owner of the string, but soon enough, he spotted him—a shorter boy clutching books tightly to his chest, eyes darting away from everyone around him, avoiding contact. There was an anxiousness in the way he moved, as if he was trying to make himself smaller.

He was following the thread exactly, without even realizing it.

Silas's attention sharpened. The boy reached the altered section of the string and began to drift toward the wall, his shoulder brushing against the smooth surface. His army green shirt bunched slightly from the friction, but the boy didn't seem to notice.

Silas could feel his anticipation building. How long would it take for him to realize something was off? Would he even notice that his path had been pulled off-course by fourteen meters?

The boy eventually peeled himself away from the wall and glanced nervously at Silas. Their eyes met for a brief moment—Silas's ashen pupils fixed on him with a deep intensity. The boy visibly shrank under his gaze, his fear and nervousness clear. It wasn't lost on Silas how much his focused stare unsettled people. He didn't care.

'Does he even realize?' Silas wondered, keeping his eyes locked on the boy.

The kid hurried past, head ducked, trying to avoid any confrontation. Silas didn't budge, only watching as the boy continued to follow the altered path without question. He walked the entire curve, all the way to the end where the string bent dramatically.

Then, as Silas expected, the boy stopped, turning to glance around in confusion, his brow furrowed. He hadn't even realized he'd been walking in a warped direction.

 Silas's lips twitched with a mix of satisfaction and intrigue. His grin reflected the joy he felt, a joy so profound it seemed he could indulge in it for centuries without growing old. the power he held in this moment, the ability to alter others fates, The power he held in this moment, the ability to alter others' fates, contrasted sharply with his existence, where others had decided his destiny for him.

The same starved boy, once chained and powerless, had always dreamed of this moment—of controlling his own fate and bending others' destinies to his will. Now, finally liberated from the chains of his past, he revelled in the power he had longed for.

That he was still stuck, chained by powers beyond him. 

That control that he was able to enact in the very moment, the idea that instead he would be behind the choices of others, that fate would bend to his will, that no more would he be chained, but be the one to decide for others, the power over others was something the weak boy had always dreamed of, so being able to finally do so. 

It was liberating. 

He looked back to the pitiful sleeper with a wide grin.

"Buddy, the cafeterias the other way," Silas emphasised this by pointing behind him with his thumb.

The fellow sleeper turned at the voice nodded quickly and hurried away. 

Once again following the golden thread. 

Silas looked to his back for a bit before eventually following, after all he had been messing around for a little bit, the true purpose of him exiting his room was to fill his empty stomach. 

'Who can blame me for getting off track, the food can wait' Silas replied internally, before revisiting. 

'Actually, some food would be great, I wonder how the Innercity delicacies taste, maybe it will be as good as the beef I had in the nightmare.' Silas wondered with now slightly drooling mouth. 

The meat that his 'uncle' had shared with him was fantastic, if it was on a similar level, he might consider trying to stay in the waking world as much as possible after awakening. 

With hunger driving his steps. 

Silas along with the hundreds of other sleepers made their way to the cafeteria.