Klaus stood amidst the silence of the chamber. The knowledge he had just recovered settled over him like a heavy cloak. It was not new information, not really. It was old. Ancient. Buried beneath layers of reincarnation and forgotten lives.
The memory surfaced unbidden, pulling him back into the skin of Tomas Veil.
The air inside the temple had been thick with the scent of decay and old dust. Tomas coughed, wiping blood from his lips as he stumbled over the uneven stone floor. Behind him, the sounds of battle were dying out. Not winning. Dying.
"Hold the line!" a guard shouted, his voice cracking with fear.
The shadows detached themselves from the walls. They were not mere darkness. They were hollows. Creatures of void that drank the light from the torches. Three guards fell in seconds. Their swords passed through the shadows as if swinging at smoke. Fireballs from the accompanying mages exploded harmlessly against the creatures' forms.
