Chapter 24: The Crimson Raven
"I don't need this," Ren said, staring at the gold revolver on the table. "What am I supposed to do with a gun?"
Master Kara didn't budge. His eyes narrowed behind his thick spectacles. "You don't understand, boy. This isn't just a weapon; it's a conduit. As a Magic Crow user, your Vane needs a medium to travel through for long distances. Take it. It's yours now."
Ren sighed, his fingers wrapping around the cold, engraved metal of the revolver. He tucked it away, feeling its heavy weight against his hip.
"Now," Kara continued, gesturing to a mannequin standing in the shadows behind Kimo. "If you're choosing the path of the Magic Crow, you need to look the part. You are no longer just a student. You are a shadow."
Ren turned to look at the outfit, and his breath hitched. It was a masterpiece of intimidation.
The outfit featured a high-collared, pitch-black cloak that looked like a deep shadow brought to life. Sharp, blood-red piping traced the edges of the fabric, glowing faintly with latent energy. It was a wide, bell-sleeved trench coat designed to mask his body's movements. Underneath, a tactical fishnet shirt sat close to his skin, paired with sleek, flexible black trousers and silent-soled shoes. On the mannequin's finger sat a mysterious red ring that pulsed like a heartbeat.
"This is... incredible," Ren whispered, touching the fabric.
"It's the mark of a 'Silent Killer'," Kimo said, his voice dropping an octave. "But be warned, Ren. You are only the third person in this Academy to attempt the Magic Crow path. And you might be the last."
Ren looked up sharply. "Why?"
"Because the previous two," Kimo said bluntly, "died the moment the potion touched their tongues. Their bodies couldn't handle the strain of the Crow's essence."
Ren felt a cold sweat break out on his neck. "Then why are you giving it to me?"
"Because of your fight with Adam," Kimo replied. "You showed a level of physical resilience I haven't seen in years. I believe you can survive the transition. But it won't be easy."
Kara stepped forward, placing a glass vial on the table. The liquid inside was a swirling, toxic mix of deep purple and charcoal black.
"Drink this," Kara commanded. "If you survive the first hour, the next three to five days will be hell. You will vomit blood. Your body will feel like it's being re-stitched from the inside out. You cannot eat anything but dry bread, and you must drink only water. Anything else will poison you during the transformation."
"I'm going to die," Ren muttered, looking at the vial.
"Everyone goes through this," Kimo said, placing a hand on Ren's shoulder. "If you feel your skin tearing or blood leaking from your eyes, don't panic. It's normal. You will likely lose consciousness. Just... don't fight the potion. Let it take over."
Ren took a deep breath. He sat in a heavy wooden chair and unscrewed the cap. A foul, metallic stench filled his nostrils.
"Don't taste it," Kimo warned. "If you linger, you'll gag and waste the dose. Drink it in one go."
Ren didn't give himself time to overthink. He tilted his head back and downed the entire vial. The liquid felt like molten lead sliding down his throat. He slammed the empty bottle onto the table, his head immediately beginning to spin.
The world slowed down. The colors of the room bled into each other—the red of the swords, the green of the potions, all swirling into a grey mist. His vision blurred until he could barely see Kimo's face.
Then, the pain hit.
A fountain of dark, thick blood erupted from Ren's mouth. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. His eyes rolled back, and the chair flipped over as he collapsed. But as he fell, his hand instinctively shot out, gripping the edge of a showcase to keep himself upright.
"Ren!" Kimo shouted, rushing to his side as Ren slumped against the glass. "Ren! Can you hear me? Stay with me! REN!"
"Yeah... yeah..." Ren gasped, his voice a broken whisper.
The darkness was pulling at him, heavy and cold. As his eyes finally closed, the last thing he saw was a faint, purple glow beginning to emanate from his own skin. The transformation had begun.