The grand dining hall of Grimoire Academy, usually a cacophony of clattering silverware and hushed conversations, was eerily silent. The morning mist still clung to the stained-glass windows, casting elongated shadows across the long, oak tables. Ethan picked at his breakfast, a tasteless porridge that seemed to mirror the knot forming in his stomach. Professor Blackwood's cryptic lecture from the previous day hung heavy in the air, its meaning slowly solidifying into a terrifying reality.

"You alright, mate?" Liam asked, nudging Ethan with his elbow. He was shoveling down eggs and bacon with gusto, seemingly unaffected by the looming dread that was consuming Ethan. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Ethan managed a weak smile. "Just… processing."

"Processing what? Blackwood's boring lecture? I nearly fell asleep," Liam chuckled, oblivious.

Ethan pushed his bowl away. "It's not boring, Liam. It's… insane. We have to… bind ourselves to Daemons?"

Liam finally paused, a piece of bacon halfway to his mouth. "Yeah, that's the gist of it. A Pact. You scratch their back, they scratch yours. Big deal."

"Big deal? What if we don't want to? What if we choose the wrong Daemon? What if… what if they control us?" Ethan's voice rose slightly, drawing a few curious glances from nearby students.

Liam sighed. "Look, I get it, it's a bit daunting. But it's how things work here. It's tradition, it's protection, it's… everything. Besides, Blackwood said we get to choose, right? It's not like they're forcing us to shack up with some fire-breathing monster."

"But what do we even know about Daemons? He just spouted a bunch of vague nonsense about energy and symbiosis." Ethan ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "This is all happening so fast. I was scrubbing floors in an orphanage last week, and now I'm supposed to forge a mystical bond with some… entity from another realm?"

Liam shrugged, resuming his breakfast. "Think of it as an upgrade. Free bodyguard, magical powers, the works. What's not to like?"

Ethan stared at him, incredulous. He couldn't fathom Liam's nonchalance. Perhaps it was the ingrained normalcy of being raised in a magical family, while Ethan was still reeling from the revelation that magic even existed.

The rest of the day was a blur of classes, each lesson further emphasizing the importance and the dangers of forming a Pact. Professor Blackwood, now teaching History of Daemonology, spoke of legendary Pact-forgers, humans who had achieved unparalleled power and influence through their bonds. He also recounted cautionary tales of those who had chosen poorly, their lives consumed or twisted by their Daemon partners.

In Rune Studies, Professor Elmira, a wiry woman with perpetually ink-stained fingers, lectured on the intricate runes used in Pact rituals, warning against even the slightest miscalculation. "A single misplaced stroke," she hissed, "can have catastrophic consequences. Think carefully. Your life depends on it."

The pressure mounted with each passing hour. Ethan felt like he was drowning in information, none of which seemed to offer any real guidance. How could he possibly make such a monumental decision with so little knowledge? He barely knew what a Daemon *was*, let alone which one would be the right fit for him.

That evening, in the library, Ethan was surrounded by towering stacks of books, their titles filled with arcane jargon: *Daemonology: A Comprehensive Guide*, *The Art of Pact-Forging*, *The Lesser Key of Solomon*. He flipped through them frantically, trying to decipher the secrets hidden within their dusty pages.

He learned about the different types of Daemons – Fire Daemons, Water Daemons, Earth Daemons, Air Daemons, and rarer, more enigmatic types like Shadow Daemons and Aether Daemons. Each type possessed unique powers and personalities, and each required a different approach when forming a Pact.

The sheer complexity of it all was overwhelming. How could he possibly choose? It felt like picking a life partner based on a dating profile filled with cryptic symbols and vague descriptions of magical abilities.

A shadow fell across his open book. Ethan looked up to see Professor Blackwood standing beside him, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

"Lost, Mr. Bellweather?" he asked, his voice low and resonant.

Ethan swallowed nervously. "Just… trying to understand everything, Professor."

"Understanding is a worthy pursuit," Blackwood said, his gaze sweeping over the scattered books. "But understanding alone is not enough. You must also feel."

"Feel?" Ethan echoed, confused.

"A Pact is not a transaction, Mr. Bellweather. It is a bond, a connection. It is a merging of souls, however disparate they may be. You cannot choose a Daemon based on logic alone. You must feel a resonance, an affinity."

Ethan stared at him, searching for some hidden meaning in his words. "But… how do I do that? I don't even know where to start."

Blackwood sighed, a rare display of patience. "The Academy will provide opportunities. The Daemon Confluence is approaching. Attend. Observe. Listen. Let your instincts guide you."

"The Daemon Confluence?" Ethan asked.

"A gathering of Daemons, drawn to the Academy in anticipation of the Pact season. It is a rare opportunity to witness them in their natural state, to understand their essence. But be warned, Mr. Bellweather," Blackwood's voice deepened, "Daemons are not pets. They are powerful beings, and some are… less scrupulous than others."

With that, Blackwood turned and disappeared into the labyrinthine aisles of the library, leaving Ethan alone with his thoughts.

The Daemon Confluence. It sounded both terrifying and exhilarating. A chance to actually *see* the creatures he was supposed to bind himself to. But the warning in Blackwood's voice lingered, a reminder of the inherent danger.

He glanced down at the open book, his eyes falling on a passage describing the effects of a poorly formed Pact: madness, physical decay, and, in some cases, complete obliteration.

He slammed the book shut, a wave of nausea washing over him. This wasn't just a choice; it was a gamble with his very soul.

The next few days were a whirlwind of anxious anticipation. The air in the Academy crackled with energy as the Daemon Confluence drew near. Students whispered excitedly in the hallways, speculating about which Daemons would appear and who would form the most powerful Pacts.

Ethan, however, remained withdrawn, his mind consumed by fear and uncertainty. He tried to talk to Liam, but his roommate was too caught up in the excitement to offer any real comfort.

Finally, the day of the Daemon Confluence arrived. The entire student body gathered in the Academy's Grand Courtyard, a vast open space usually used for dueling practice. A shimmering barrier had been erected around the perimeter, presumably to contain any unruly Daemons.

As the sun began to set, casting long, dramatic shadows across the courtyard, the air grew thick with an otherworldly energy. A low hum resonated through the ground, vibrating in Ethan's bones. Then, one by one, they began to appear.

First came the Fire Daemons, their forms shimmering with heat and light. They danced and twirled in the air, their laughter echoing like the crackling of flames. Then came the Water Daemons, their bodies fluid and graceful, flowing through the air like currents of the ocean. Earth Daemons materialized from the ground, their forms solid and imposing, their voices rumbling like distant earthquakes. Air Daemons swirled around them, their presence felt rather than seen, their whispers like the rustling of leaves.

Ethan stood on the edge of the crowd, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never seen anything like it. The raw power, the sheer alienness of these beings was both captivating and terrifying.

He scanned the crowd, searching for some sign, some indication of which Daemon he should choose. But all he felt was confusion and a growing sense of panic. He was completely out of his depth.

Then, a disturbance rippled through the crowd. The air grew cold, and the shadows deepened. A hush fell over the courtyard.

Ethan felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He turned slowly, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Standing in the center of the courtyard, bathed in the fading light, was a Shadow Daemon.

But this was no ordinary Shadow Daemon. Its form was shrouded in darkness, but Ethan could sense the immense power radiating from it. It stood alone, aloof and indifferent to the chaos around it.

And then, it looked at him.

Its eyes, burning with an eerie, silver light, met Ethan's. A jolt of electricity shot through him, and he felt an inexplicable connection to the Daemon, a pull so strong it nearly knocked him off his feet.

This, he realized with a growing sense of dread, was Kyran. The wolf he had found wounded in the Blackwood Forest. The creature he had instinctively healed.

He had already formed a bond, unknowingly, with a being far more dangerous and powerful than he could have ever imagined. And the Pact Mandate, the choice he was supposed to make, had already been decided for him.