The Eyes Of Death Chronicles: Young Masters

Chapter Seven: The Shadows

On and on we went, the journey stretching endlessly, like a road that swallowed time. I tried to distract myself by counting trees or rocks, but my mind circled the same question: why was I really here? When we finally arrived at the famed Shadows academy, I couldn't help but gape.

It was massive, far beyond anything I had imagined. A standard football stadium gleamed to one side, and the academy boasted every facility one could think of.

There was no denying its beauty and majesty, but I wasn't here for sightseeing. Before I could take in much more, I was whisked away to the principal's office.

The principal, a poised woman with sharp eyes, greeted me curtly. Her office was sterile, her tone colder.

"Welcome," she said, though her words carried little warmth. What followed was a brief explanation of why I had been brought here.

Apparently, I was here to lead the new generation of masters of death. My job?

Train to defeat the old six rebel masters, and most importantly, capture my father by performing a soul transfer on him.

I froze at the mention of my father. "I won't do it," I replied quickly, my voice steady but defiant.

The principal leaned back, her gaze piercing. "Do you know how your mother died?" she asked.

I blinked, my throat tightening. "No. No one knows. She just left——she woke up one day and just left——she left us. That’s what happened."

Her eyes bore into me. "Then let me tell you how your father activated his eyes of death."

The words hit me like a slap. It all made sense in an instant. My father had killed my mother to awaken the power of the Eyes of Death. The realization knocked the air from my lungs. He had sacrificed her for power and then set me up to bear the weight of his betrayal.

I vowed then and there: if I ever got the chance, I would kill him. He lied to me, he took her from me, he was never there but she was, always and he killed her.

My heart sank deeper as the principal's words echoed in my head, but in that same moment, a fire ignited. I would strengthen my powers. I would hunt him down. And ultimately, I would kill him. These were my thoughts as my eyes burned with pain and anger.

I was shown to my room—a lavish, overly comfortable space that felt more like a luxurious prison cell. The door locked behind me with an audible click.

Was this an academy or a juvenile jail?

That night, sleep didn't come.

Questions flooded my mind, each one louder than the last. How did I end up here? What would happen to me next?

And most importantly, could I face the shadow of my father and survive?

I tossed and turned as rain hammered against the windows. The storm outside was nothing compared to the one raging within me. Helplessness clawed at me, but one thing remained clear: the urge to kill my father was my anchor.

The room, though, was undeniably comfortable. Spacious and modern, it had the softest bed l'd ever laid on, air conditioning perfectly tuned, and a massive TV. A gaming console sat neatly on the shelf, alongside a satellite decoder. It was everything I could ever want-except freedom.

At exactly ten the next morning, the electronic lock on my door clicked open. I sat up, rubbing my tired eyes, and stepped out into the corridor.

Doors along the hallway swung open in unison, and soon the halls were flooded with people.

Prisoners.

We all shuffled down together, a sea of faces that carried their own burdens.

There must have been hundreds of us— five or maybe six hundred. With no idea what to do, I followed the crowd.

Eventually, we assembled in neat lines.

That's when I felt a strong hand grab my arm. I turned, startled, and met the face of Danzaki—my cousin.

He looked older, colder, and darker than I remembered. His white eyes, a mark of the young master of air, glowed faintly as he gave me a once-over. He looked smug and cute all at once, but something in his demeanor had shifted.

"Danzaki!" I exclaimed, reaching to hug him. He recoiled, his expression unreadable. "Get in line," he ordered, shoving me into place.

I frowned but obeyed. I had so many questions-why was he here? Was it to take down his father, one of the six traitors? But now wasn't the time. I needed to focus on what was happening around us.

Out of nowhere, a man appeared in front of the assembly. It wasn't just his sudden appearance that was unsettling—he was hideous. His lips were enormous, his head misshapen, and his overall presence was... disturbing.

"Criminals!" he began, his voice grating like nails on a chalkboard. He sounded like a choking frog. "You're all here because you dared to abuse your gifts.

Most of you will never leave this place, but some-" his eyes glinted-"some have a chance to become heroes."

The room buzzed with murmurs.

"The Ice Queen, ruler of the eight lands, has decreed this: anyone who brings the head of a rebel master of death will be granted amnesty. Their crimes will be pardoned, and they will be celebrated as a hero. But this will not be easy. To defeat them, you must train to perfection. Only the strong will survive."

As abruptly as he appeared, the man vanished into thin air.

The assembly dispersed, and I was left standing, dazed. My thoughts raced, but before I could make sense of anything, someone grabbed my arm again. I spun around, expecting Danzaki.

It wasn't.

It was Paulo, another cousin I hadn't seen since Christmas. Unlike Danzaki, Paulo and I had always gotten along. He was always uptight, always serious. And now, his eyes had changed too. His irises burned with a vermilion hue, a sign he had unlocked the power of his eyes.

He looked at me with the same intensity as always. "Come with me," he said, his grip firm.

I hesitated but followed. What other choice did I have?

We ended up in the cafeteria, sitting at a table already occupied by Danzaki. He still looked dark and distant, his eyes holding a venomous glint.

Paulo leaned forward, his tone grave.

"You're wondering why we're here, right?"

I nodded.

"You won't like the answer," he said.

"We were set up."

"Set up for what?" | asked, my voice rising.

"To kill the ones closest to us," Paulo said, his words heavy.

“What?” I snapped. “All of us”?

"No," Paulo replied. "Just the six of us."

I looked at Danzaki, who was glaring at me now. "Explain," | demanded.

"Shut up and listen," Danzaki growled.

"I won't repeat myself."

I bristled but let him speak.

"The six masters of death rebelled against the crown," he said. "They set up their own children—you, me, all of us—to kill the ones we loved most. That's how we awaken our powers. The crown found out and took us in before the plan could be completed. Now we're here to train, defeat them, and take their place."

I sat back, the weight of his words settling in my chest. This wasn't just about survival-it was about revenge.

And I was ready. This Academy was a place that technically didn’t exist, as it names depicts, it literally was THE SHADOWS…………