I left the horse barn with the sensation of walking on crushed glass. The barrier of light I had left at the entrance of Goiás's stall glowed faintly in my spiritual sight, a golden reminder that I couldn't be in two places at once.
The campus was deserted. The cold wind of São Paulo cut through the concrete corridors, making dry leaves dance like little specters on the ground. I just wanted to get to the bus stop, but Aureus, in his infinite and silent vigilance, warned me before my eyes did.
My right arm vibrated. Not the comforting warmth of when I'm healing or protecting, but a sharp hum. Proximity alert.
I stopped under a streetlamp that flickered, failing.
"You took your time," a male voice said, coming from the shadow cast by the century-old tree in the central square.
A young man stepped out of the darkness. He looked about my age. He wore designer clothes, an impeccable haircut, and held an unlit cigarette between his fingers. He looked like a Law or Economics student, someone the world would say had a "bright future." But the Spiritual Frontier told a different story.
His aura was a vortex. While my light sought stability and form, his energy seemed to want to devour the space around it. It was violent, unstable, and full of sharp edges.
"Who are you?" I asked, planting my feet firmly on the ground. My left hand closed into a fist; the right, hidden in the jacket, prepared to manifest the shield.
"Someone who admires waste," he smiled, and I saw his teeth were slightly stained with something dark. He pointed the cigarette at the barn behind me. "Spending Fervor to protect a beast of burden? Seriously? That is so... Aureus. So mediocre. Preserving the status quo, keeping things alive just because."
He was a Chosen of Umbra. There was no doubt. The arrogance, the social Darwinism dripping from every word.
"What did you do in the stall?" my voice came out low, dangerous.
"I marked territory. I was looking for an energy source to accelerate my climb to the Second Circle. Animals have pure vitality, easy to harvest. But then I smelled ozone and light. I smelled you." He took a step forward. "A Chosen is worth much more Fervor than a horse."
The air grew heavy. I felt the pressure of his killing intent. To him, this wasn't a crime; it was evolution. He wanted to dominate me to get stronger.
"I won't let you touch anything here," I warned. The Code of Conduct burned in my mind: Protection. Do not initiate aggression. I needed him to attack first. If I hit him now, based only on a verbal threat, my light would fail.
He noticed my hesitation and laughed.
"Ah, the shackles of 'Goodness'. You want to smash me, I see it in your eyes. The farm girl wants to defend the herd. But you can't, can you? Your god castrates you."
The boy brought the cigarette to his mouth, but didn't use a lighter. Instead, he bit his own tongue hard. I saw a trickle of blood run down the corner of his mouth.
Umbra's magic demands sacrifice. Physical pain.
The instant the blood touched the air, his shadow rebelled. It peeled itself off the ground, rising up his back like a living cape, solid and sharp. The cigarette lit up on its own from the heat of entropy.
"Let's see if your faith is as solid as your light," he hissed.
He snapped his fingers, and a spear made of coagulated darkness shot from the ground in my direction, aiming for my chest.
Attack confirmed.
I didn't think. I dropped to one knee and threw my right arm forward. The jacket ripped as the light expanded.
"Aegis!"
The shadow spear collided with my shield of solid light. The impact dragged me half a meter back on the asphalt, tearing the sole of my boot. His magic was destructive, heavy, made to hurt. My shield cracked, but didn't break.
I looked at him through the golden transparency of my barrier. He looked... ecstatic. The pain in his tongue seemed to feed him.
"Yes!" he shouted, black eyes dilated. "The resistance! The conflict! That is how we grow. Not by saving kittens, but by crushing obstacles!"
He prepared another attack, the shadow in his hand condensing into a massive claw. I was on the defensive, stuck in my Circle 1, while he seemed to be testing the limits of power.
But then, the lights of a police cruiser rounded the corner of the campus. The siren was off, only the light bar illuminated the trees in blue and red. The "real" world invading the Frontier.
The boy dissolved the shadow instantly. The pain and sacrifice vanished from his face, replaced by the mask of a harmless student.
"Lucky you, hick," he spat the blood onto the ground. "The police ruin the ritual. But we'll see each other again."
He retreated into the darkness, blending into the night as if he were made of it.
"My name is Vitor, by the way," his voice echoed before fading. "Remember it when I'm at the top and you're still playing farm."
I stayed there, kneeling, my arm of light pulsing painfully. I dissolved the shield slowly, feeling the exhaustion hit. The Fervor in me was agitated, not from saving someone, but from surviving.
I looked at the bloodstain he left on the ground.
They weren't just comic book villains. They were people who believed power justified everything. And Vitor was right about one thing: if I wanted to protect Goiás and everything else, the First Circle wouldn't be enough.
I stood up, dusted off my pants, and looked up at the starless São Paulo sky.
"Bring it on, Vitor," I whispered. "Things are a hell of a lot tougher down here."