As always, I felt as if it was in the lair of a mad scientist. The room was cluttered with objects of various origins, each holding meanings I couldn't comprehend in spite of my theoretical knowledge of barrier techniques. Papers were strewn about, filled with diagrams that were likely for new experimental barriers or modifications to existing ones. It was a mix of an archaeological and architectural lab—certainly not a classroom.
I couldn't blame my teacher, though. He was a first-class sorcerer, not an elder, which meant he had limited time to develop his barriers between missions assigned by the higher-ups. Teaching me was just another demand placed on him by the clan. Yet, he never directed his frustration at me; instead, he taught methodically, conveying the theoretical foundations of the barrier techniques.
"There are two factors to determine before forming a barrier," he explained. "You must decide on its purpose, which falls into one of three categories: to conceal, contain, or deny. You must identify the target of the barrier, whether it's a sorcerer, cursed spirit, object, or even an effect of a cursed technique. These two details dictate if you produce an effective barrier for each situation."
It was a lesson I had heard many times before. My instructors often felt the need to repeat these foundational concepts, perhaps to solidify my understanding as I was being prepared to climb atop the world of sorcery. To me, it often felt more like a test of my focus. Boredom often tempted me to zone out, but I had learned to resist. Focus had been ingrained in me more than any other skill.
Behind that focus lay the weight of expectations. From the moment of my birth, I had been the center of many dreams and ambitions—not my own, but those of an entire community. My life had been mapped out before I could even speak a word. My innate cursed technique had determined it to be so. A wielder of the Ten Shadows is said to have the capability to stand at the pinnacle of sorcery, on par with a Six Eyes-Limitless user from the Gojo clan.
My mother died during my birth, and my father—a first-class sorcerer—died on a mission a few years later. I had never seen him, if I somehow had, I didn't know of it. Moments after my birth, the elders had taken custody of me, deciding my path and shaping my future.
As the class on barrier theory came to an end, I stood and thanked my teacher. My relationship with the first-class sorcerers was complicated; unlike the elders, they didn't focus on me excessively, which made their instruction more straightforward. Perhaps it was their constant brush with death on missions that kept them grounded, free from the grand ambitions that consumed the elders. I enjoyed these classes more than I would with the elders, who never provided the answers I truly sought.
Stepping out of the room, I made my way toward the adjacent building for my next class, one focused on the ten shadows and taught by an elder. The building was separated from mine by a courtyard, but I had some time.
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The courtyard was a place of familiar chaos that provided a brief respite from the monotony of my life. Sometimes, it would be younger kids having their very first experiments with cursed energy; other times, those my age practicing their cursed techniques, both innate and learned. Today, it was the latter. I took my usual spot, a corner close by the hallway to my next destination, from where I could view the whole courtyard. Today, there was an unsettling tension in the air. There were no conversations between them; all were seemingly focused on their task, yet a closer look showed it was a sense of desperation that surrounded them, as if they were collectively attempting to distract themselves from something.
I continued to watch, being an onlooker from the sidelines. I had often wondered what it would be like to be among them, to experience normalcy. But did I even know what that truly meant? What was a normal life to a young sorcerer? These few moments I got, watching others my age, were all the perspective I had. I didn't even know the names of most out there now, and these were only those from among the clan who were chosen for their ability to climb as sorcerers. How many more my age were in the clan, and what was normal to them?
There were few who stood out, particularly one named Tetsuya. Even without any direct interactions, it was hard not to learn his name. He had a certain presence to him; all the chaos happening still seemed to ebb and flow according to his actions. "Leadership," that's what they called it—something that drew others to you, made them want to follow you, to work alongside you for a common goal. I had asked my teachers about it. After all, for all they constantly spoke about my talent, I was sure I didn't possess that quality. How could I when I barely interacted with anyone without supervision? How was I supposed to be the key to the future of the clan if I couldn't lead?
An elder had cast my question off with a simple comment: "The only true leadership is that of strength. If you reach the pinnacle, they will have no choice but to follow if they wish to climb higher." Still, watching them always brought more questions to me, and no complete answers. Yet I knew any answers to be found would also only be here, and not with my teachers.
It was time to leave, onto my next class—one specifically about the Ten Shadows technique. But as I began to walk away, I felt a need to approach them, to inquire about the cause for this shift among them. But the warnings from my instructors echoed in my mind, cautioning against casting myself among them: "Those who remain a mystery are easy to admire without jealousy; it's those close by who become the target of jealousy and envy."
But before I could decide, one of the young sorcerers noticed me. It was Tetsuya; he abruptly turned, glaring at me with an intensity that caught me off guard. There was never any animosity directed at me from any of them all these years—only looks of curiosity tinged with either reverence or doubt. But it was undoubtable this time, as Tetsuya stormed up.
"What is it?" he spoke, stepping up to face me. The others, finally distracted from their own practice, turned their attention to the confrontation.
"What?" I replied, confused.
"What makes you special?"
I hesitated, caught off guard by the question.
"I—"
"Don't act ignorant! You've been here learning from them, haven't you? The first-class sorcerers of the clan, taking time away from their tasks. So tell me, what's so special about you?"
"The… the Ten Shadows…" I stammered. It wasn't a secret; there was truly no one in the clan who didn't know who I was.
"Ah, yes, the Ten Shadows! Strong enough to match a Six Eyes user, they say. So… why aren't you out there? Why is it us—us who had to face that monster while you sat safely in here? What good are you if you're just a coward? Have you ever faced a cursed spirit without the elders watching over you?"
"The elders, they have restricted me from leaving clan grounds without adequate protection."
"Ha! And you think you're above us because of a cursed technique!? When you need protection from even the weakest cursed spirits? That's funny! If our elite sorcerers weren't busy coddling you, maybe we wouldn't have been forced into missions we weren't ready for. My older brother—he wouldn't have died as the only first-class leading us—he wouldn't have had to face that monster alone."
"Your brother…" My mind froze. So that was the cause of all this. A mission gone wrong; I had heard about many such scenarios from my teachers. They were supposedly all too common among sorcerers. But the reality of it was still daunting.
"Don't pretend you care!" Tetsuya's voice broke through my thoughts. "They're right, I guess. You and the Six Eyes are equal in at least one way—both of you—monsters! You are both the causes of my brother's death! I wish the both of you killed each other; at least then, we would have a future without the horrors of monsters like you."
Before I could even understand, the atmosphere shifted. The group froze, collectively acknowledging the elder who had approached unnoticed.
"What's happening here?"
"Greeting, Elder Ryu," they chorused, the confrontation dissolving into tense silence.
"I couldn't quite hear the discussion among you youngsters. I was wondering why Tsubasa was late to his class. Any of you willing to elaborate?" The elder's voice held a weight that seemed to silence them all. He neither expected nor wanted an answer. But Tetsuya wasn't so easily calmed. He seemed to struggle with himself until his face stilled as if recalling past memories. Then his mouth turned up into a sneer.
"I was just curious why the so-called greatest talent of the clan hides away while the rest of us face the dangers for the clan!" The boy straightened, defiance in his eyes. "Is that what the Ten Shadows is about—hiding in the shadows of others' sacrifices? Maybe he should step out and prove himself for once!"
"Enough!" Elder Ryu's voice cut through. He sighed, then spoke. "I understand the pain behind your words. All who have been sorcerers for any significant time will. But your brother's death was meant to be—not because he was weak, but because his opponent was that much stronger. No amount of first-class sorcerers would have helped. Yes, your brother was talented and had climbed to stand among the first-class sorcerers while still so young, but he simply couldn't reach above that even if he had lived, and sooner or later, he would've met someone stronger—someone who could reach closer to that pinnacle. It was his fate, as is the fate of every other sorcerer except for those few exceptions."
Elder Ryu had a mournful look on his face, but it morphed into a deathly stillness as he continued.
"Don't forget yourself, Tetsuya Zenin. The elder council decides what happens with the Ten Shadows—not you, and neither does your father. He may be the clan head, and as such, he shall handle the day-to-day matters of the clan, but the future shall rest in our hands."
The boy's defiance shattered, his momentary bravery failing beneath the elder's gaze.
"Time has been wasted," Elder Ryu said, turning to me. "Come, Tsubasa, we must not delay your lessons further."
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As we walked away, the reality of the moment settled in for me. This wasn't about me, not truly. It was a clash of expectations they held for the ten shadows—Tetsuya desired for me to be a shield against the horrors the life as a sorcerer brought. For the elders I was a the key to the fulfillment of their ambitions.
What might that ambition be, that they would sacrifice themselves and their loved one's for it, and what drove them towards it? I had no clue.
I struggled to regain my focus upon arriving. Unlike the prior class, this room looked to be for academics. The walls were lined with bookshelves, almost fully filled. A large desk held a stack of papers and writing utensils, alongside was a chair. A portable blackboard was half filled theories about the ten shadows, with the other half likely cleared for my arrival. I took a seat in the only lone chair in front of the board, no desk to accompany it. There would be no notes taken, there never was, the elders were committed to thoroughly engrave the knowledge directly into me, no matter how many times the same lesson had to be repeated. But my mind was not on my surroundings, or the lesson to come. The elders had meticulously planned my path as a sorcerer, ensuring my progress would be a steady climb toward greatness without unnecessary risks. Yet, doubts now gnawed at me. Was I meant to focus solely on the future, casting aside those who wouldn't arrive there?
Elder Ryu's voice broke through my thoughts. "I should have expected this. You are distracted." I didn't respond, after a moment he continued, "You have questions. Ask."
"Why am I not sent on missions? How do I grow without those experiences?"
"You are. We've ensured you've faced a wide range of scenarios. You've encountered more circumstances than many active sorcerers of our clan."
"You know that's not what I mean. During those missions, I knew my life was never in danger. There were always at least two elders watching over me, and those missions were specifically chosen."
"Does it matter? You are correct. Though only one elder should have been revealed to you, to have picked up on the second, your senses have grown far faster than we realized. We selected missions that would challenge you while preventing undue risk, allowing you to identify and grow past your weaknesses. Don't be mistaken by the emotional words of a fledgling sorcerer. They would still have been sent on such missions, even if we had an excess of first-class sorcerers, more than we could ever possibly employ. It's the only way for them to become valuable. They must endure, push themselves to their limits, and crawl forward, scraping by. Only a few will survive long enough to accomplish anything of significance. You, however, were born to stand in a place where they can only reach by stepping over the bodies of those who once stood beside them."
"But will that prepare me for special grade?"
Elder Ryu's expression shifted, revealing contemplation.
"I was taught that to reach that level, I must confront death and impossible circumstances. How can I be ready if I can't be allowed face a newborn curse without safety measures?"
He sighed, closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at me intently. "Tsubasa, do you know why the great clans stand above all others in the world of sorcery?"
"Because of our unsurpassed innate techniques?"
"Not quite. Even first generation sorcerers can have powerful innate techniques that match up to or surpass those originating from the great clans in potential. While our innate techniques are great, and the likes of the Ten Shadows and the Limitless do stand at the pinnacle, what truly sets us apart is our ability to turn those innate techniques into inherited techniques."
"I don't understand."
"Think deeper. What separates humans from other animals? What has allowed humanity to rise above nature's order?"
"Our intelligence?"
"Yes, our intellect is a significant advantage, similar to how an innate technique is for a sorcerer, but many animals exhibit great intelligence. What truly elevated humanity was using that intelligence to build knowledge, which can be passed down and used to further capitalize on our intelligence. Humans have gained an understanding of our advantage so deeply, have expanded upon it, have made it so versatile that it allows us to shape nature, rather than being shaped by it."
"So, the ten shadows being repeated in our clan among generations allows us to build on it?"
"Exactly. The great clans excel because they understand their innate techniques, which are passed down through generations."
"But doesn't the greatest growths of a sorcerer occur though combat?"
"Yes, there's no greater growth than through life-and-death struggles. However, do you think a scion of a great clan could compete with those who rise from nothing in terms of struggle? No. Why would you throw away your advantages?"
"The time for struggle will come," he continued. "Our goal is to mold you into the greatest tool for the Zenin clan. We shall not remain amongst the great clans at the pinnacle of sorcery; we shall be the very heavens themselves."