Noah chuckled to himself as he pushed the book aside, reaching for another one.
This one's cover was faded, and the words written on it were barely legible, but it was exactly what he needed.
His pulse quickened as he skimmed. Several accounts from students on assignments, or hunters patrolling the perimeter, spoke of sudden attacks at night, when the darkness itself seemed to twist and dive.
The descriptions were vague, half of them chalked up to hallucinations, but a few were more specific.
Dark Bats, the locals called them. Bats large as hounds, their wings dripping with condensed shadow. They manipulated the darkness around them, using it to cloak their movement and silence sound until it was too late.
Noah paused, his quill hovering.
This was better. Darkness was his core affinity, the first and deepest pool he had drawn from.
