The Struggle Within - Lucian’s Turmoil

Lucian sat on the edge of his small wooden bed, staring at the beams of the attic ceiling. Shadows danced across the worn wood. Memories of the past week swirled in his mind like leaves caught in a tempest, each one more haunting than the last. His fingers traced the rough texture of the woollen blanket beneath him, grounding him in the moment as he tried to make sense of it all.

His birthday—the camping trip, the laughter, the games—all seemed like distant echoes now, each memory tainted by the shadow of his newfound powers. What was once a day of joy had morphed into a week filled with fear and confusion. Each morning, he woke to the same question that clung to him like a ghost: What is happening to me?

His thoughts drifted back to the lake, where the sunlight had glinted off the water, and he and his siblings had raced along the shore. Those moments felt magical, innocent even—untouched by the dread that now clung to him like a second skin. But as the days passed, an undeniable force stirred within him, a power that thrummed beneath his skin, waiting to escape. The memories of laughter had morphed into chaos—flowers blooming unnaturally at his touch, shadows stretching beyond their natural reach as fear wrapped itself around him like a shroud.

The attic felt colder this morning, despite the faint light filtering through the small window. Outside, thick Yorkshire clouds hung low over Leeds, mirroring the gloom inside Lucian’s heart. He glanced at the empty bed beside him—Leon had already left for breakfast, leaving Lucian alone with his thoughts, a solitude that felt increasingly suffocating.

It had been a week since Mr. Daiwik left for London, and everything had changed. His father’s absence loomed like a shadow over the household—he was the steadfast rock, the unmovable pillar of authority. With him gone, the weight of unspoken fears pressed heavier on Lucian’s shoulders. Mrs. Daiwik’s presence felt like a thin veneer over something more chaotic. Her eyes flickered with concern every time they met, a spark of apprehension that hadn’t been there before. She tried to maintain the family’s rhythm, but the tension was palpable, a silent agreement that something was amiss.

Lucian’s mind wandered to the Daiwik estate, their home that had once felt like a fortress. Nestled between the bustling town and the enigmatic woods by the River Aire, it now seemed to pulse with unsettling energy. The familiar creaks of the wooden floors, the soft thrum of the river in the distance—they should have brought him comfort, but instead, they echoed the strangeness that had taken root in his life.

Even his family felt altered. His siblings, once close companions, now regarded him with wary eyes. Leon, his closest ally, had grown quiet, casting furtive glances at Lucian when he thought he wasn’t looking. The bond that once felt unbreakable now seemed fragile, as if the mere mention of magic could shatter it.

Linda, however, remained curious, her blue eyes sparkling with wonder every time she caught a glimpse of one of Lucian’s ‘tricks.’ She had always been fascinated by his abilities, trailing him into the woods to watch flowers bloom at his touch. Yet, even her gaze now held a hint of uncertainty, a flicker of fear that gnawed at Lucian’s heart.

Then there was Lewis. The resentment in his older brother’s eyes had grown palpable, festering beneath the surface like a wound. Lucian had sensed it, but now it felt like a dark cloud looming over every interaction. The incident by the lake during their birthday camping trip had only intensified the rift. Lucian barely touched him, yet an invisible force had thrown Lewis back, a display of power that had terrified them both. Since that moment, Lewis had become distant, his quiet demeanour laced with jealousy, a bitterness that threatened to unravel their family ties.

"Seventh child of a seventh child," Lucian thought bitterly, recalling his grandmother’s ominous words whispered just before her passing. His birth had been shrouded in superstition, and now those old beliefs seemed to manifest before him. The stories of curses and magic had always been mere tales—until now.

Clenching his fists, Lucian struggled to suppress the energy that surged beneath his skin. It had all started on his birthday—the games, the tricks, the way he could suddenly control the world around him. What had felt like a gift had spiralled into chaos. Flowers bloomed at his touch, winds stirred when he was angry, and shadows danced when he felt fear. Each incident only deepened his anxiety, a reminder that he was no longer in control.

His mother’s worried glances and his siblings’ hushed whispers filled the air around him with dread.

“What if I hurt them?” The thought clawed at him, his heart racing. The idea of losing control and harming those he loved most was unbearable. He needed to uncover the truth about his powers—and fast.

The attic felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken fears. Standing up, his legs trembled beneath him as he made his way downstairs. The sounds of family life drifted through the house—the clatter of dishes, the soft hum of conversation—but the thought of facing their cautious gazes made his stomach turn. Instead, he slipped quietly out the back door, inhaling the cool morning air like a lifeline.

The woods by the river called to him, their shadows long and dark in the early light. It was among these trees that Lucian had always found solace, a sanctuary away from the weight of the world. Yet, as he ventured deeper into the forest, he sensed a change in the air. The trees seemed to sway in time with his heartbeat, the whispers of the wind brushing against his skin.

“I need to understand this,” he thought, his resolve hardening as he pressed forward. The cool earth beneath his feet was familiar and grounding, a reminder of the peace he had once found here. But an unsettling feeling lingered, as though the woods were watching him, each rustle of leaves a reminder that he was no longer alone in his turmoil.

As he reached a clearing bathed in dappled sunlight, Lucian stopped, breathing in the crisp air. But the calm was deceptive. With a sudden surge of energy, he stretched out his hand, desperate for a connection to the magic that pulsed within him. As if responding to his call, a nearby flower bloomed—petals unfurling in a vibrant display of colour.

A thrill of excitement mingled with fear coursed through him.

“I can control it,” he whispered, but the moment of triumph was short-lived. The air crackled around him, and before he could regain his composure, a gust of wind whipped through the clearing, sending leaves spiralling into the air.

Panicking, Lucian stumbled back, feeling the chaotic energy surge within him. Shadows deepened around the edges of the clearing, stretching out like dark fingers seeking to envelop him.

“No, not again!” he gasped, desperately trying to rein in the energy that felt like a wild beast within him. Lucian knelt by the forest floor, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. He stared at his hands, still trembling from the surge of power he could barely control. It had been mere moments since the last flare of his magic, and he was now grappling with the turbulent energy swirling within him. The once peaceful woods around him seemed to hum with tension, the air thick and charged with something he could not fully understand. His heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment, he wondered if he would ever gain control over this force or if it would consume him entirely.

As Lucian struggled to calm his breathing, a sudden rustling from the underbrush caught his attention. Slowly, he turned his gaze to the sound and saw a fox stepping cautiously from the shadows. Its dark fur bristled slightly, as though the creature itself was unsettled by the magic Lucian had unleashed. The fox’s eyes, completely black and unnaturally reflective, locked onto his. There was something deeply unsettling about the way those eyes bore into him, as if the creature were studying him—trying to understand him in the same way he was trying to understand it. Lucian could feel an odd connection forming between them, an unspoken tension vibrating in the air. The creature suddenly froze, as if sensing the turmoil emanating from him. In that moment, he realised his powers were not just a gift; they were a force that could harm the innocent.

“Control,” he murmured, forcing himself to focus. He envisioned the energy settling, calming the storm within. Slowly, the wind began to die down, the shadows receding as the flower’s petals quivered and fell silent. Yet, the fox remained, a silent witness to the chaotic display of power that was his life now.

Lucian knelt, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He reached out, and to his surprise, despite its wariness, the fox approached Lucian, its nose twitching in the air as it sniffed cautiously. In that fleeting connection, he felt a flicker of hope—a reminder that he was not entirely lost. Lucian noticed something else—something faint yet palpable: a dark aura emanating from the fox, just barely visible, like a shadow clinging to its fur. He blinked, unsure if what he was seeing was real or a product of his overwhelmed senses. The aura pulsed in time with the strange connection he felt to the animal. Was it just his imagination, or was this fox somehow tied to the magic that was spiralling out of control inside him?

“I must learn to control this,” he vowed, determination igniting within him. Lucian extended his hand tentatively, fingers trembling as he reached out toward the fox. The creature hesitated, its ears twitching, but it did not run. Instead, it inched closer, allowing its cold nose to touch his outstretched fingers for just a moment. In that brief contact, Lucian felt something stir deep within him—a flicker of understanding, as though the fox recognized his turmoil and shared his fear. But just as quickly as it had approached, the fox backed away, eyes still locked onto Lucian, before vanishing into thin air, as if it had never been there at all.

Lucian’s hand remained outstretched, frozen in midair as confusion and disbelief flooded his thoughts. He blinked, wondering if the fox had truly existed or if it had been another hallucination brought on by the chaos within him. He stumbled to his feet, glancing around the woods, searching for any sign of the creature. But there was nothing. The forest had returned to its eerie stillness, save for the thumping of his heart in his ears. Was he losing his grip on reality? Had the fox been real, or was it something more sinister, something conjured by his own magic?

The question gnawed at him. The fox hadn’t run away like any normal creature would—it had come closer, curious, perhaps even drawn to him. What had it seen in him that made it approach? And why had it vanished just as quickly? Lucian stood alone, his mind racing with thoughts of the strange encounter. Was the fox simply a figment of his imagination—or was it a warning of the dark forces stirring both inside and around him? Whatever it was, Lucian couldn’t shake the feeling that it was not the last he would see of the creature or the shadowy magic lurking in the woods

The Struggle Within - A Cloaked Presence

The early morning light filtered through the dense canopy of the ancient forest, casting long, shifting shadows across the forest floor. The woods surrounding the Daiwik estate, once Lucian’s refuge, now seemed alien, ominous. The familiar peace had given way to something darker, as though the trees themselves whispered secrets too terrible to know. Leaves rustled softly in the wind, their movement seemingly purposeful, as though stirred by unseen hands rather than by nature itself.

Lucian’s mind whirred with uncertainty. He could still feel the strange, lingering presence of the fox.

"It felt so real..." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

“Maybe Lewis is right,” he thought. “Maybe I am dangerous.” His heart sank at the thought. “Did the fox sense it too?” The encounter left him unsettled, his emotions spiralling into confusion.

He stumbled forward, his feet moving almost mechanically as he tried to make his way back to the estate. But the forest’s grip on him had tightened, and though the path ahead was clear, Lucian felt compelled to stop. He leaned against the rough bark of a massive oak tree, its roots winding deep into the earth beneath him. The weight of the previous night’s events settled on his shoulders like an unbearable burden. Lewis’s words had cut him deeply, even more than he cared to admit.

"He's dangerous, Luke. You’ve seen it. He’s not like us," Lewis’s voice echoed in his mind. The harshness of his brother’s accusation had stung. Lucian clenched his fists, recalling the moment when he had overheard them from outside the door.

"One of these days, he’ll hurt someone. Or worse."

Those words had been the breaking point. Lucian had stormed into the room, trembling with barely-contained anger. He remembered how the fire in the hearth had flared up in response, crackling with blue flames that surged with a strange, unnatural energy. The sparks had flown out, igniting the air with a wild, chaotic energy.

Lewis had backed away, eyes wide with shock.

"Lucian!" he’d shouted, his voice a mixture of fear and accusation. "Was that you?"

Now, in the stillness of the forest, Lucian knelt, his back pressed against the oak. He tried to steady his breath, but the turmoil inside him was rising once again. The energy within him stirred whenever he thought about his family—about their fear and resentment toward him. The more he tried to suppress it, the more volatile it became, a storm raging beneath his skin, begging for release.

The cool dirt under his fingers grounded him, but barely. Lucian closed his eyes, focusing on calming his mind, on quieting the tempest within. But even as he tried to find peace, the whispers began again. Faint at first, like a distant breeze, but growing steadily louder. His eyes snapped open, and he looked around wildly, his gaze darting from tree to tree. He wasn’t alone.

He never was anymore.

A figure—a cloaked shape—stood in the distance, barely visible between the thick trunks of the trees. Lucian’s heart raced as he stood, his legs unsteady beneath him. The figure disappeared as soon as his eyes locked onto it, vanishing into the shadows. But Lucian knew it had been there. He wasn’t imagining things. Something—or someone—was watching him.

Forcing himself to move, Lucian turned away from the oak and began to walk deeper into the woods, his steps heavy and uneven. He didn’t want to go back to the estate, not yet. The thought of facing his family, of seeing the fear in their eyes, made his stomach churn. Instead, he continued along the forest path, the dense trees closing in around him like a living maze.

The woods were cool, the thick canopy above blocking out most of the sunlight. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and moss. Somewhere in the distance, the River Aire’s steady hum provided a soothing backdrop, but even that comfort was fleeting. Lucian’s thoughts were fragmented, a mess of confusion and fear. The fox’s appearance, Lewis’s cutting words, the fire... it all swirled together in a storm of emotions he couldn’t quite untangle.

And then there were the creatures. Lucian had seen them—dark figures lurking in the shadows of the forest, watching him, waiting. They never came too close during the day, the sunlight seemed to keep them at bay for now, but they were there. He could feel their eyes on him even now, though the morning light pierced through the trees in beams of gold.

His feet brought him to a familiar clearing, but the peaceful atmosphere it once held was tainted now. He knelt by a small puddle, gazing into its still waters. For a moment, he thought he saw Leon’s face reflected back at him, but it was only his own. The resemblance between the twins was striking—dark blond hair, wide blue eyes full of mischief. But Lucian’s reflection held something Leon’s didn’t—a heaviness, a darkness that weighed him down like a stone.

Lucian stood, the puddle rippling as he moved. He looked ahead, his eyes drawn to a thick cluster of trees where he spotted movement. The fox was there again, its dark fur blending into the shadows, its black eyes gleaming like coals. It lay in the shade of the thick branches, watching him silently.

The air around Lucian seemed to crackle with a strange energy, and he could feel his powers stirring inside of him, tugging at the edges of his mind. They had always been there, these abilities—gifts he hadn’t asked for. But lately, they had grown more unpredictable, more dangerous. What had once been harmless tricks—catching a ball from an impossible distance or making flowers bloom—had spiralled into something much darker.

His thoughts drifted back to his family, to the distance growing between them. He had barely spoken to them in days, preferring the solitude of the woods to the tension-filled rooms of the estate. His mother’s worried glances, Leon’s silence, Lewis’s sharp words—they all weighed heavily on him.

Lucian’s feet moved of their own accord, bringing him closer to the fox. It lifted its head but didn’t run, its black eyes fixed on something behind him. Slowly, Lucian turned, his gaze following the fox’s line of sight.

Up ahead, on a thick branch that stretched out over the path, the tall, dark figure stood. The figure was cloaked, its face obscured in shadow, but its presence was undeniable. Lucian’s heart skipped a beat as the figure raised its hand, beckoning him to approach.

The air around him seemed to still, the forest growing unnaturally quiet. Lucian’s pulse quickened as he stepped forward, his feet moving cautiously, his gaze locked on the cloaked figure. The whispers that had haunted him earlier grew louder, more insistent, as though they were coming from the figure itself.

Then, in an instant, the figure raised a staff. A sharp crack echoed through the forest as lightning shot from the staff’s tip, striking the thick branch above the fox. The branch snapped, crashing down onto the creature’s half-hidden form.

The fox let out a strange, unnatural bark, its body twisting in an unsettling way as the branch fell. Lucian stumbled backward, falling to the ground as he tried to shield himself from the falling debris. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he stared at the spot where the fox had been.

When he looked up again, the cloaked figure was gone, leaving only the silence of the forest and the lingering feeling of dread that settled in his bones.

The Struggle Within - Boggart in the Woods

Silence settled over the forest. Not even the wind stirred. Lucian stood up slowly, his eyes scanning the area where the cloaked figure had been, but it was gone. In its place, lying beneath a fallen branch, was something he had only ever heard of in whispered tales: a boggart.

The creature appeared half-fox, half-something else, its fur an unsettling mix of silver and black that shimmered as if it were woven from the night sky itself. The creature was struggling, caught under the heavy branch, its dark eyes wide with fear. The sight was strange yet mesmerising. Even in its distress, the boggart radiated an otherworldly power that both fascinated and frightened Lucian.

"Hey there," Lucian said softly, his voice shaking as he approached the trapped creature cautiously. He wasn’t sure what to expect—boggarts were known for their trickery and danger, but something in this moment felt different.

The boggart's eyes met his, full of mistrust, but beneath that, Lucian could see a glimmer of hope, as if it were unsure whether to fear or trust the young boy. For a brief moment, the weight of the situation vanished as Lucian crouched down, the energy within him humming as it always did in moments like these. His hands hovered over the branch, not yet touching it, as if he were testing the air around him.

Lucian inhaled deeply, feeling the familiar surge of power beneath his skin. He closed his eyes, focusing on drawing out not the chaotic energy that usually erupted uncontrollably but a more subtle, calming force. The woods were silent, as though they, too, waited for his next move. He pressed his hands against the branch, his fingertips trembling as the energy within him began to flow.

“Just a little…” he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible as he gathered his strength. The branch, under the influence of his controlled magic, slowly lifted and was flung several meters away, embedding itself into the earth. The boggart leapt from its trap, landing gracefully on all fours, but in an instant, its form shifted.

Gone was the fox-like creature that had appeared so vulnerable. In its place stood a monstrous figure, taller and more menacing, with elongated limbs and dark, gleaming fur that moved as though stirred by an unseen wind. Its eyes were sharp, dark slits, and its teeth—now long and jagged—bared at Lucian in a grimace of malice.

Lucian stumbled backward, fear gripping his heart as he took in the creature’s new form.

"You're free now," he managed to say, though his voice wavered with uncertainty. The creature, its terrifying features glaring, shook the dirt from its fur. For a moment, Lucian thought it might attack, but instead, the boggart merely regarded him, its head tilting slightly as though contemplating what to do next.

The tension between them stretched, palpable, as Lucian held his breath. His heart hammered against his chest, and he wished he could send out a silent message that he meant no harm. The boggart’s gaze lingered on him before it took a cautious step forward, its massive claws sinking into the soft earth.

“I… I’m not afraid of you,” Lucian stammered, his words shaky but earnest. “I just want to know... what do you want from me?”

Incredibly, the boggart’s form began to shift again, this time shrinking down into the familiar shape of the black fox. Its dark fur seemed less menacing now, and with a surprising gentleness, it nudged Lucian’s hand. He stared down at it, bewildered, before a quiet laugh escaped his lips.

“You’re not so scary after all, are you?” he said, his fear melting away as he stroked the boggart’s sleek fur. The creature seemed to respond to his touch, its body relaxing as if in gratitude. For a brief moment, they stood in silent understanding—an unlikely pair bound together by the strangeness of their shared experience.

But just as quickly as the connection formed, it vanished. With a sudden flick of its tail, the boggart darted into the underbrush, its body disappearing into the shadows of the forest, as if it had never been there at all. Lucian remained crouched where he was, watching the place where the creature had vanished, a strange sense of loss filling him. It had been a fleeting moment, but in that short time, Lucian felt as though he had made a connection, a bond with the magical world around him.

He stood slowly, his legs still shaky, and turned his gaze back to the dense trees that surrounded him. The whispers of the woods, which had once filled him with fear, now seemed different—less threatening, more like a guide leading him deeper into the heart of the forest. He took a deep breath, feeling the vibrant energy of the forest around him, the life thrumming through every leaf, every blade of grass.

As Lucian ventured further, the air around him seemed to hum with electricity. The sunlight filtering through the leaves above formed dazzling patterns on the forest floor, and the colours of the woods appeared more vibrant, more alive. Lucian could feel a sense of belonging creeping into his heart, a feeling he had never expected in this moment of isolation.

“Control it,” he whispered to himself, his breath steady now. He focused on the rhythm of his steps, on the steady beat of his heart, reminding himself that he could harness the power within him.

But with each step he took, he was reminded of Lewis’ words.

"He’s dangerous."

A shiver ran down his spine as doubt crept back in. Was he dangerous? The question gnawed at him, a persistent whisper that refused to fade, no matter how hard he tried to push it away. He could still feel the strain of his powers, the fear of what might happen if he lost control again.

The trees thickened as he walked, the underbrush growing denser until he found himself in a clearing unlike any he had ever seen before. The air here felt ancient, as though the place had stood untouched for centuries. At the centre of the clearing stood a massive oak, its twisted roots snaking across the ground like ancient serpents. The tree towered above him, its thick branches stretching high into the sky.

Lucian approached the tree slowly, feeling an inexplicable connection to it, as though it held the wisdom of the ages within its gnarled bark. He placed his hand against the trunk, feeling the rough texture beneath his fingers. For a moment, everything around him seemed to pause—the whispers, the fears, the doubts. It was just him and the tree, breathing together in perfect harmony.

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He closed his eyes, feeling the pulse of life that flowed through the tree and into the earth beneath him. It was as if the forest itself was alive, its heartbeat syncing with his own. A wave of calm washed over him, and for the first time in days, the turmoil within him settled.

“Please,” Lucian whispered, his voice barely audible. “Help me understand this power. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

The leaves above him rustled gently, and for a moment, Lucian thought he could hear the forest responding, its whispers no longer menacing but comforting. His heart swelled with hope, and he opened his eyes, feeling lighter, as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

But even as hope filled his chest, doubt remained. The image of the dark cloaked figure loomed large in his mind. Who—or what—was it? Why had it appeared to him? His magic stirred, his palms glowing faintly. What if he couldn’t control it? What if he hurt someone? The thought of Lewis’s fear and his mother’s worried glances gnawed at him.

With a heavy heart, Lucian stepped away from the oak, the calm it had given him slowly fading. He knew that he would have to find a way to control his powers, not just for himself, but for his family and for the creatures of the forest who shared this strange, intertwined fate.

As he made his way out of the clearing, the sunlight broke through the canopy above, illuminating his path. He paused at the edge of the forest, glancing back at the dense trees that had been his sanctuary.

“I’ll be back,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath. “I’ll understand this. I won’t be afraid anymore.”

With that, Lucian stepped into the light, leaving the shadows behind him—but carrying their echoes within his heart.

Cracks in the Foundation - Spark of a Witch Hunt

The afternoon sun hung low over Leeds, casting an eerie glow across the town square. Despite the warmth in the air, a palpable tension had settled, growing like a storm over the town. The once-bustling marketplace, alive with chatter and trade, had now become a breeding ground for whispers—whispers of dark forces at the Daiwik Estate, of shadows moving without light, and of curses that lingered in the very air. Leeds, a town steeped in old superstition, was stirring with fears of witchcraft, and Lucian Daiwik had unknowingly become the centre of it all.

It had been three weeks since Mr. Daiwik’s departure for London, and though the man’s absence was keenly felt by his family, the town had been gripped by something far more insidious. The quiet, uneasy murmurs of the first few days had grown into something much darker, fueled by the strange happenings that surrounded the Daiwik family. Lucian’s unexplained outbursts—moments when magic flared out of control—had not gone unnoticed. They acted like a beacon, calling forth creatures of legend that should have remained in the shadows. The Black Shuck, with its glowing red eyes, had been seen prowling near the woods; Will-o'-the-Wisps flickered at the edges of the forest; and the terrifying Gytrash stalked through the trees, its ghostly form watching the Daiwik estate with unsettling intensity.

These creatures, long thought to be mere stories to frighten children, had become terrifyingly real, summoned by the unbridled surge of Lucian’s magic. The town of Leeds, once sceptical of old legends, was now deeply afraid. The Council of Elders, a secret magical society in the town, had started keeping a watchful eye on the Daiwik estate, awaiting a decision from Jiang Li on how to handle the growing danger. The wards surrounding the woods were weakening, and even Nullkins—non-magical folk—were starting to notice the strange phenomena. Rumours of witchcraft swirled with increasing intensity, threatening to spill over into outright persecution.

In the heart of the marketplace, a crowd had gathered, their faces drawn with fear and suspicion. At the centre stood Martha, a former servant of the Daiwik family. Her shrill voice rang out above the murmurs, drawing more people toward her with every word. Her twisted narrative, fuelled by personal resentment, had taken root among the townspeople, who were all too eager to believe in tales of darkness and curses.

"I tell you, I’ve seen it myself!" Martha’s voice cracked with the fervour of her accusations. "The shadows in that house—they move, and there are voices, whispers in the walls. The plague spared no house but theirs! That’s no coincidence! It’s witchcraft!"

The crowd stirred uneasily at her words, casting wary glances toward the direction of the Daiwik estate. They remembered the plague that had swept through Leeds years before, leaving a trail of devastation, but somehow sparing the Daiwiks. That small mercy, once considered a blessing, had now become a source of suspicion and fear.

Jiang Li stood at the edge of the gathering, her sharp eyes trained on Martha. Though she appeared calm and collected, Jiang’s mind was whirling. She had been sent to observe the strange happenings at the estate and had witnessed firsthand the growing danger. She knew that magic was real, but she also knew the consequences of exposure in a town like Leeds. The memories of witch trials still lingered in the collective consciousness of the people, and the last thing anyone needed was for those dark days to return.

Martha’s voice rose in a triumphant sneer, her words dripping with venom.

"And those twins—those cursed twins—they’re the worst of all. Mark my words, it’s them who are responsible for this darkness falling over Leeds."

A few townspeople gasped, glancing around nervously as though they expected the very shadows to leap from the walls at Martha’s proclamation. Jiang narrowed her eyes, observing the crowd’s rising anger. Fear was a dangerous weapon in a place like this, and Martha wielded it with precision. What was once quiet suspicion had morphed into something more dangerous—something that could ignite into violence at any moment.

In the distance, two figures pushed through the crowd, their faces pale with worry—Leopold and Lena Daiwik. They had come to the market for groceries, but instead, they were met with a scene they had hoped to avoid. Martha’s accusations were spinning out of control, and they could feel the tension building like a dam about to burst.

“You’re lying, Martha!” Leopold’s voice rang out, cutting through the din of the crowd. All eyes turned toward him, and for a moment, the mob seemed to freeze in place, unsure of how to respond. Leopold’s jaw was set, his fists clenched at his sides. His gaze burned with defiance as he stepped forward to defend his family.

Martha sneered.

"Lying, am I? Tell me, boy, what does your family have to hide? Why is it that shadows move on their own at your estate? Why are people hearing strange voices?"

Leopold shook his head, his voice firm.

"You were dismissed for stealing, Martha. Don’t twist the truth to suit your vendetta. Our family is no threat to anyone."

Lena stood beside her brother, her eyes filled with resolve.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about, Martha. You’re spreading lies, and you know it."

But Martha’s eyes gleamed with malice.

"If you’ve nothing to hide, why are you so quick to defend yourselves? What are you afraid of?" She gestured toward the crowd, a sneer pulling at her lips. "These people have a right to know what’s happening. You can’t silence them all."

The crowd stirred again, voices rising in agreement. Whispers of witchcraft, of curses, and of darkness tainted the air. Fear was contagious, and the people were catching it quickly.

One voice from the back of the crowd shouted, "Drive them out!"

Another echoed, "Witchcraft!"

Leopold grabbed Lena’s arm, his voice tight with urgency.

"We need to leave—now."

The twins turned and ran, pushing their way through the crowd as shouts of accusation followed them. The mob began to swell, their anger stoked by Martha’s words, their fear boiling over into rage.

Jiang Li watched from an alley, her heart pounding in her chest. The situation was spiralling out of control. She slipped behind the nearest back alley, looking around her for onlookers. She reached into her robes and pulled out the talisman around her neck.

"It’s time to intervene," she whispered in Chinese. The talisman glowed brightly in her hand.

Cracks in the Foundation - Shattering Ward

Dusk fell swiftly over Leeds, turning the sky into a canvas of deep purples and smudged indigo. The town was alive with tension, and even the air felt thick with anticipation. Jiang Li walked briskly through the twisting back alleys, her form blending with the gathering shadows. The mob's chants from the marketplace echoed faintly behind her, but she remained focused on the task at hand. She knew the tide was turning—danger was not just imminent, it was here.

As she reached the cover of a narrow passage between two buildings, she slowed, her fingers curling around the delicate talisman that hung from her neck. The jade pendant glowed faintly under the dying light. Her breath steady, she whispered the ancient incantation under her breath, tracing delicate symbols in the air with her free hand.

“Levo Corpus,” she murmured, her voice soft yet commanding.

A swirl of mist formed at her feet, rising like smoke from the earth until it solidified into a soft, shimmering cloud. The moment her feet touched the silken surface, she vanished from sight, cloaked by the magic woven into the cloud itself. As Jiang Li ascended silently above the rooftops, her keen eyes locked onto the chaotic scene below. The mob, restless and growing bolder by the minute, was surging through the streets, their fear and hatred fuelling their movements.

Leopold and Lena Daiwik were running ahead of the crowd, their faces pale with fear. From her vantage point, Jiang Li could see them weaving through the market stalls, desperately trying to lose the mob that had gathered behind them.

“Confundo Mentem,” she whispered, uncorking a small vial of shimmering dust. She flicked the powder into the air, her spell carried on the wind like a whisper through the trees. The dust scattered invisibly, descending upon the crowd below.

Immediately, a wave of confusion rippled through the mob. Their once-focused rage dulled as the magic took hold, clouding their minds. The chanting turned to mumbled incoherence, their steps faltering as they looked around in bewilderment. Fists that had been raised in anger now dropped to their sides, eyes glazed over in a daze. Jiang Li allowed herself a brief smile of satisfaction, but there was no time for complacency.

Her cloud drifted silently through the air, guiding her as she descended behind the shelter of the trees. Below, the mob began to lose momentum, their fervour dissipating into disorganised confusion.

As the Daiwik twins neared the safety of their estate, Jiang Li’s heart raced. She knew this was only a temporary reprieve. The creatures lurking in the woods—the Gytrash, the Black Shuck, the Barghests—were all being drawn closer by that unknown uncontrollable power. They seemed to be heading towards the Daiwik’s Estate. It was only a matter of time before they breached the thinning wards that surrounded the woods.

As she landed lightly on the forest floor, Jiang Li’s senses sharpened. The woods around her were eerily quiet, too quiet. She touched the jade talisman once more, activating the connection to the Magical Council of Leeds, the three Elders.

“The wards are weakening,” she whispered, her voice filled with urgency. “The magical and dark creatures are growing bolder. We need reinforcements now, or Leeds will fall into chaos.”

Even as she sent the message, a cold gust of wind swept through the trees, carrying with it a chilling, familiar sound—a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. Jiang Li froze, her eyes scanning the darkness for the source. There, at the edge of the forest, two glowing red eyes pierced the night.

A Black Shuck.

The spectral hound stepped into view, its massive form rippling with dark energy, its fur shifting like smoke in the wind. Its eyes locked onto Jiang Li, and a deep, menacing growl rumbled through the earth beneath her feet.

Jiang Li wasted no time. With a swift movement, she summoned her cloud once more, leaping onto it as the Black Shuck lunged toward her. The beast’s claws slashed through the air where she had been standing only moments before, but her cloud shot upward, carrying her out of reach. The hound snarled below, its fiery eyes tracking her ascent with unrelenting intensity.

High above the treetops, Jiang Li steadied herself, her heart pounding. She had bought herself time, but the wards were still weakening. She had to act fast.

Far below, the Black Shuck prowled the forest’s edge, its red eyes glowing like embers in the dark. As Jiang Li rose higher into the sky, she noticed movement in the distance—more creatures, drawn toward the Daiwik estate like moths to a flame. Will-o'-the-Wisps flickered between the trees, their eerie glow lighting up the underbrush, while the shadowy forms of the Barghests slunk through the woods, their glowing eyes scanning for prey.

Jiang Li’s mind raced. She needed to reinforce the wards, especially the ones surrounding the outskirts near the Daiwik Estate, but she couldn’t do it alone. She guided her cloud toward the estate, her eyes scanning the treeline for any sign of danger. She could feel the magic thrumming beneath her skin, the power of the wards calling to her. But even as she approached, she saw it—the crack.

A thin, shimmering fissure in the magical barrier that separated the estate from the woods. It pulsed with a sickly light, barely holding the boundary intact. The wards were failing, and if they collapsed entirely, the creatures would be free to enter the town.

Jiang Li’s heart pounded in her chest as she landed softly at the edge of the estate. The air here felt thick, almost suffocating, with the presence of that uncontrolled magic more intense. She could feel it, the power spiralling out of control, drawing the creatures closer. She moved swiftly toward the crack in the wards, her fingers tracing the ancient symbols of protection in the air.

“Fortis Custos,” she chanted, her voice steady but filled with urgency.

The symbols glowed faintly as she cast the spell, but it wasn’t enough. The crack pulsed again, widening slightly. Sweat beaded on Jiang Li’s forehead as she tried to reinforce the barrier, but she could feel it—her magic was strong, but it wouldn’t hold for long.

Just as she was about to attempt another incantation, a loud, bone-chilling howl echoed through the woods. The Black Shuck had returned, its red eyes glowing ominously as it stalked toward her.

Jiang Li cursed under her breath, her hands trembling as she drew the jade talisman from around her neck. She needed more power—something stronger, something that could hold back the darkness.

With a deep breath, she raised the talisman to the sky, chanting the ancient words that would unleash its full power. The air around her crackled with energy as the talisman glowed brightly, its magic swirling around her like a protective shield.

“Protego Magicae!” she shouted, her voice ringing out through the forest.

A brilliant wave of light erupted from the talisman, surging toward the crack in the wards. The fissure shuddered, pulsed, and then slowly began to mend, the sickly light fading as the barrier strengthened once more.

But the Black Shuck wasn’t finished. With a snarl, the beast lunged at Jiang Li, its claws slashing through the air. She barely had time to react, summoning her cloud to lift her out of reach just as the hound’s claws raked the ground where she had been standing.

Her heart raced as she ascended into the sky once more, her eyes locked on the Black Shuck below. The creature snarled up at her, its red eyes glowing with hatred, but it couldn’t reach her. Not here.

But even as Jiang Li hovered above the estate, her heart heavy with exhaustion, she knew this was only the beginning. The creatures were growing bolder, and the wards were weakening faster than she had anticipated. If they failed completely, Leeds would fall.

She had bought them time, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

As Jiang Li soared back toward the town, her mind raced with plans. She needed reinforcements. She needed the Council of Elders to act—now. The creatures were closing in, and the Daiwik family was at the centre of it all. If they didn’t find a way to stop this, Leeds would be consumed by darkness.

The streets of Leeds were quiet as she glided above them, her form a shadow against the moonlit sky. But even here, in the relative safety of the town, she could feel it—the tension, the fear, the growing suspicion of the townspeople. They didn’t know what was coming, but Jiang Li did.

And if they didn’t act soon, it would be too late.

Cracks in the Foundation - The Breaking Point

The almost full moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale, silver glow over Leeds. It pierced through the dense clouds, illuminating the streets like a ghostly lantern. Inside the Daiwik estate, shadows crept along the walls, shifting ominously in the corners of the room. As the front door slammed open, Leopold and Lena stumbled inside, their breathless panic filling the oppressive silence. The once-warm atmosphere of their home now felt cold and stifling, as though the house itself held its breath, anticipating the storm brewing within its walls.

“Mother! Mother!” Leopold called, his voice sharp with fear. His heart pounded, and every muscle in his body seemed to tremble with the aftershock of their sprint through the town.

Mrs. Eleanor Daiwik appeared in the doorway, her face drawn and pale. The worry etched into her features told of sleepless nights and unspoken fears, her eyes haunted by the weariness of weeks without rest. She glanced at her children, sensing the gravity of their distress before they could even explain.

“What is it, Leopold?” she asked, her voice laced with concern despite her attempt to keep it calm. “What’s happened?”

“The town—they’re chased us down, they… they’re saying things,” Lena stammered, her gaze darting nervously around the dimly lit room, as though the shadows themselves carried the weight of the rumours. “They think we were behind the plague!”

Mrs. Daiwik’s face paled further, her heart sinking as the realisation hit her like a wave. Whispers had been swirling around the town for weeks, whispers that carried with them an ever-growing threat.

“The plague…” Mrs. Daiwik repeated softly, her eyes distant as though recalling an old nightmare. The plague had spared no one’s house but their own, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by the townspeople.

“They’re saying we’re cursed, Mother, that the house is cursed” Leopold continued, his voice cracking under the strain of his fear. “I cannot deny I’ve seen things, weird things and I reckon the house is haunted and they know it, because of Martha! She told them and they’re going to come for us! We can’t stay here any longer!”

His composure, usually so steady, shattered under the pressure, and his hands shook as he gripped the back of a chair, desperate to ground himself in the chaos. His words echoed through the room, each syllable a plea for survival, for escape from the growing storm that threatened to consume them all.

Before Mrs. Daiwik could respond, the door burst open again, and Lewis stormed into the room, his face flushed with fury. His eyes burned with an accusation that hung in the air like a noose waiting to tighten around someone’s neck.

“Are you all mad?” Lewis spat, his voice sharp with anger. “This isn’t a curse or haunting! This isn’t some act of divine punishment!” His finger shot out, trembling with rage as he pointed directly at Lucian, who had been hiding behind Leon in the corner of the room. “It’s him! It’s Lucian!”

A heavy silence fell, suffocating in its intensity. The air grew thick, almost tangible, as all eyes turned toward Lucian. His throat tightened, and he could feel their gazes piercing him, each glance like a blade slicing through his skin. He had always been close to his siblings, but in this moment, standing at the centre of their accusing stares, he had never felt more alone.

Leon, ever the protector, stepped forward, positioning himself between Lucian and the others, his expression a mask of defiance.

“Rubbish, Lewis” Leon said firmly, though his voice quivered ever so slightly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so just shut it.”

But Lewis was relentless. His fury surged like wildfire, consuming him, blinding him to reason.

“I do know!” Lewis shouted, his fists clenched at his sides. “We’ve all seen it—his strange powers. He’s the reason for all of this! The town knows it too! If we don’t do something, they’re going to come for him—for all of us.”

Lucian’s chest tightened, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as his brothers and sisters argued around him. The pressure inside him grew, a storm swirling beneath his skin, pulling at the edges of his consciousness. The resolved he found in the deep of the forest, now lost. The magic—wild, untamed, and dangerous—pulsed within him, threatening to break free. His fists clenched at his sides, trembling as he fought to hold it back.

The air around him began to shimmer, a faint glow illuminating his skin as the magic pressed harder against the fragile barriers of his will. The room seemed to grow colder, the light dimming as shadows stretched across the walls, curling toward him like dark tendrils, feeding off his fear and frustration.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, staring at Lucian. Lewis stepped forward, grabbed Leon and turned him around.

“Look at him! Do you see it? He glows! Do you think it’s normal!?”

“I didn’t mean to…” Lucian whispered, his voice barely audible.

Mrs. Daiwik stepped forward, and pulled Lewis away from Leon, placing herself between them, her face pale, her voice trembling as she tried to regain control of the situation.

“We’re a family,” she said, her tone a desperate plea for unity, for peace. “We have to stay together and embrace our differences, our uniqueness. Do you hear me? All of you?”

But Lewis shook his head, his frustration boiling over.

“We’re out of time, Mother!” he cried. “The town is coming for us, and when they do, they won’t be asking questions. They’ll come with torches and pitchforks. We need to leave before it’s too late!”

As the argument reached its crescendo, Lucian’s magic surged again, the pressure building like a wave ready to crash. The chaotic energy inside him twisted and coiled, pulling at the seams of his control. His skin glowed brighter, the bluish light flickering like a flame about to burst into wildfire.

Lewis turned toward Lucian, his eyes filled with a mix of rage and fear.

“Stop it, you monster!” he demanded, his voice sharp and commanding. “You will cause even more trouble for us if someone sees it.”

Without warning, Lewis lunged forward, grabbing Lucian’s arm and yanking him into the centre of the room. Lucian cried out, his small frame trembling as he looked around, desperate for help, for someone to stop this before it was too late.

“Stop it, Lewis!” their mother shouted, her voice breaking with fear. She reached out to pull Lucian back, but Lewis held fast, his grip tightening.

“No! He is the one who needs to stop!” Lewis insisted, his voice rising in pitch as his anger spiralled out of control. “Otherwise everyone will see what he is!”

Lucian began to cry, his small frame trembling uncontrollably. The room was filled with a tense silence, his siblings watching with wide, fearful eyes, their breaths held as if awaiting some terrible revelation.

And then it happened.

The magic—wild, untamed, and dangerous—broke free.

A deep, resonating hum filled the room as Lucian’s magic surged, expanding like a storm. The walls shuddered, and the temperature dropped further, frost creeping up the windows and along the floorboards. The air itself seemed to thrum with energy, a pulse of magic that twisted and coiled around them.

“No, no, no!” Lucian cried, his voice cracking with fear, but it was too late.

The glow around him intensified, the bluish light growing brighter until it bathed the entire room in its eerie glow. Shadows danced across the walls, twisting and writhing as though alive. The chandelier above shook violently before exploding in a shower of crystal, raining down like shards of ice.

“Lucian!” Mrs. Daiwik screamed, her voice filled with desperation, but her words were drowned out by the roar of magic. With a jolt and an exclamation of pain, Lewis let him go, looking at his hands, his palms were red burnt,

“He burnt my hands!” Lewis screamed, stepping backwards, moving away from Lucian.

Lucian’s mind was a storm, fear and confusion swirling within him as the magic raged out of control. The energy surged outward, a shockwave that sent his siblings flying across the room as if struck by an invisible force. The walls warped, reality bending beneath the sheer weight of the unleashed power.

Time seemed to slow, and in that suspended moment, Lucian’s tear-streaked face turned to Leon, who had been thrown against the far wall of the living room. Their eyes met, and Lucian whispered, his voice trembling with fear and guilt,

“Please… make it stop… help me…”

But the plea was swallowed by the storm, and with one final pulse of magic, everything shattered. The windows blew outward with a deafening crash, shards of glass spiralling into the night like shooting stars. The fire in the hearth flared blue before extinguishing entirely, plunging the room into cold darkness. The house groaned as the very foundations trembled, cracks snaking up the walls like the fingers of some malevolent force.

Lewis was thrown across the room, crashing into the far wall with a sickening thud. He gasped for breath, his body trembling as the air was knocked from his lungs. His eyes, wide with rage and terror, locked onto Lucian.

“He’ll destroy us all!” he screamed, his voice hoarse and raw. “This monster!”

Mrs. Daiwik, trembling but resolute, pushed herself upright, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was now a battlefield, littered with shattered glass, toppled furniture, and deep cracks running through the walls. The light flickered erratically as the storm of Lucian’s uncontrolled magic raged on, but she had to reach him—before it was too late.

She crossed the room with slow, cautious steps, her breath visible in the icy air as the temperature continued to drop. Lucian stood at the epicentre of the chaos, his small frame glowing with an otherworldly light, his body trembling as though it could barely contain the raw power surging through him. His eyes were distant, glazed over with fear, and his breath came in short, shallow gasps.

"Lucian," Mrs. Daiwik whispered softly, her voice cracking with emotion. "Lucian, my love... you have to stop this."

For a fleeting second, Lucian seemed to hear her. His glowing blue aura flickered, dimming slightly as his gaze found his approaching mother. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear and concern, but there was no anger, no judgement—only love.

“You’re safe, Lucian. We’re all here with you,” Mrs. Daiwik whispered, reaching out her hand. “Don’t worry. You’re not alone.”

But before she could close the distance, Lewis’s voice pierced the silence.

“No, mum! Get away! He’s dangerous!” Lewis screamed, scrambling to his feet, his face twisted with fury. His hands were still red and burned from his earlier attempt to grab Lucian, and now, that pain only fuelled his anger. “He’ll destroy us all if we don’t stop him!”

Without waiting for a response, Lewis lunged forward, trying to wrestle Lucian to the ground. The moment their skin touched, the fragile control Lucian had managed to regain snapped. His magic flared violently, a searing blue light exploding from his body in a pulse of raw energy. The very air seemed to crackle with power as the room was thrown into chaos once again.

Lewis screamed in agony, his skin burning with an intensity that felt like fire, but he didn’t let go.

“Stop!” he cried hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the roaring magic. “You monster! Stop it!”

The words struck Lucian like a dagger. Tears welled up in his eyes, his body convulsing as the uncontrollable magic surged out of him, untamed and wild. His small frame trembled under the weight of the power he couldn’t control, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. He felt as though he were drowning in the energy, unable to breathe, unable to stop the flood.

The walls of the house groaned, cracks spidering through the stone as the magic pulsed outward. The windows blew out with a thunderous crash, sending shards of glass spiralling into the night like deadly missiles. The floorboards creaked and splintered beneath the force, and the entire room seemed to twist as if reality itself was warping under the pressure of Lucian’s power.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.

Lucian collapsed to his knees, his small body wracked with sobs. The glowing blue aura around him flickered once, twice, and then dimmed to nothing. The room was silent, save for the soft clinking of falling glass and the distant sound of the wind howling through the broken windows.

Mrs. Daiwik stood frozen, her hand still outstretched toward her son. For a long moment, no one moved. Lucian’s siblings lay scattered across the room, dazed and bruised but alive. Slowly, Mrs. Daiwik pushed herself forward, her heart breaking as she looked at her youngest child, who now knelt in the centre of the wreckage, his small frame trembling, his tear-streaked face filled with horror at what he had done.

"Lucian..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the boy didn’t respond.

Without a word, Lucian stood, his legs shaky, his eyes wide with shock. He backed away from his family, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his hands trembling uncontrollably. His eyes darted from one sibling to another, all of them staring at him with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

He had lost control.

He had hurt them.

He was dangerous.

The realisation crashed down on him like a wave, and before anyone could stop him, Lucian turned and fled, disappearing into the night.