Ashen had always heard that in exchange for wielding Shaedorin's power through the mist, shadewrights risked inheriting the madness and vices that once belonged to the Dark One. That was why he used his magic only when he had to, and sparingly when he did. But as Laenara gathered a thick cloud of mist, Ashen knew he had no choice. He had to push his limits and use the power that corrupts.
He sucked in a deep breath, summoning as much mist as he could. As he surrendered, power surged through him. It started in his lungs like a thunderous explosion and spread outward, flooding his veins with a pulsing rush of energy. For the first time in his life, he felt unstoppable. And with his body buzzing with power, it was time to unleash his fury.
'I summon the power, I summon the strength, I summon…' He paused, channeling the magic into his hands. '…the swords of death.'
Mist solidified into two enormous, black blades. Instantly, he felt the drain. Strength bled out of him, reminding him why he usually held back. But tonight, he swore to go beyond his body's limits, even if it killed him.
He lifted his darkened swords toward Laenara, only to see her smiling.
'You have such an interesting power,' she mused, as if she hadn't ordered the murder of every child in the orphanage. 'However… you're not on my level.'
Mist began to coil around her, swallowing her completely. Ashen's rage blinded him to the warning. The strength of a shadewright was tied to how much mist they could summon, and Laenara's presence dwarfed his own. Yet he charged.
A new sharpness heightened his senses. He could see every shifting shadow, every glint of metal. He could hear the terrified screams of children and the hiss of blades cutting air. A flicker of guilt seized him, he should run to save them, but he knew Laenara would never let him.
He jumped onto a table, gathering speed. The wood buckled beneath his boots. He threw himself into the air, swords raised for a crushing strike. The mist around her peeled away, revealing Laenara. Her lilac eyes glowed with cold intensity and power.
With a deafening roar, he brought the swords down. But Laenara blurred sideways, evading the attack before her fist rocketed into his gut.
It happened so fast that he didn't even see it coming. Pain exploded through his ribs as he flew through the air. The wall slammed into his back, driving the air out from his lungs. Blood flew from his mouth as he crashed to the ground as dizziness swept over him. He hadn't expected her to be so fast, or so powerful.
Before he could rise, her sweet floral perfume reached his nose, almost like a warning for her arrival. Laenara appeared before him, a savage grin twisting her features. She lashed out with a kick.
Instinct roared to life. He raised one of his arms and blocked the strike. The sound of bones cracking echoed in his ears. He slashed at her legs with his other sword. She leapt backward, finally giving him precious seconds to stagger to his feet.
Without hesitating, he lunged. His swords slashed through air, but Laenara evaded every strike, moving like flowing mist itself. He couldn't touch her. And yet, that was what he wanted.
As they fought, he began to gauge her distance, the rhythm of her steps and how long his swords would have to grow to reach her.
'Entertain me a little, Ashen,' she purred, stepping just out of reach again. His eyes narrowed. He imagined one of his swords stretching, thinner and longer. With the other blade blocking her vision, the hidden sword shot forward and slashed a deep line across her forehead.
Blood trickled down her face. Ashen allowed himself a victorious grin. But the blood stopped short of her eyes, and then rolled upward, seeping back into the wound, which sealed shut as though it had never existed.
He stared, shaken. He'd known powerful body-enhancers could heal, but seeing it happen was a different terror entirely. How do you fight someone who can simply replace the parts you cut away?
'Do you still think you're going to defeat me?' Laenara taunted, tracing a finger where the wound had been.
'I will kill you!' He shouted, swinging at her throat. This time, she didn't even dodge. Her hand snapped up, gripping the blade so fast that Ashen barely saw it move.
'Interesting,' she murmured, studying the sword in her bleeding hand. Blood welled up between her fingers from the cut of the sword, only to reverse course, flowing back into her palm.
With her attention on the captured sword, he struck with his other blade, but she caught it too, without even glancing to its direction.
'Was this the service you meant to offer House Draemond?' She sneered. Her words twisted the knife of guilt in his chest, but still, a spark of defiance flared in Ashen's eyes.
Suddenly, his sword melted in her grip, dissolving into a dark liquid that slipped through her fingers. Her eyes widened in surprise. Seizing the moment, Ashen reformed his blades and drove them into Laenara's belly. Her gasp was sharp and sudden. He drew back to sever her head, but a new threat intervened.
The black guard he had almost forgotten about stepped forward, murmuring an incantation. A blazing sphere of fire erupted from his palm. Ashen barely threw himself away in time as flames roared past, burning the air around him.
An elemental? He'd guessed the man was powerful, but not this powerful. He could fight an enhancer. Not an elemental wielding fire. He was already panting, exhausted by the trick he had done. Changing the density of the swords was draining, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
'Step back.' Laenara commanded the guard. 'You don't need to save me.'
Ashen could only stare at her. The gaping wound in her abdomen was already closing. Flesh knit itself together, leaving only a ragged slash across her dress.
'Look what you've done to my dress.' She pouted, before her eyes turned sharp. 'I knew there was something different about your magic.'
She stepped closer, a hand resting casually on her half-healed stomach.
'Tell me… how does your magic work?' Her voice dripped with curiosity, as though they weren't locked in a deadly battle.
Ashen froze, his eyes darting from her to the fire-wielding black guard. In that moment of quiet, he heard the screams again. The sobs of children. The wet thuds of swords slicing flesh.
His strength faltered for a moment. The cost of using the mist weighed on him, dragging him down like lead. What was he doing? He should be helping the children.
'Do you know why your attack surprised me?' Laenara asked, taking another step. A crash echoed from the dormitories, followed by a shrill scream.
'I'm usually very good at sensing shadewright attacks before they happen. But with you… I felt nothing. Not even when you cast what I'm certain was a draining spell.' She tilted her head, eyes glittering. 'Who would have known, you're such an interesting rat.'
Ashen's mind spun, ignoring Laenara who was before him. The matron's severed head. Sith's laughter. The children screaming. Guilt swallowed him whole. He was fighting a losing battle.
'Tell me how you do it!' Laenara suddenly roared. The sheer force of her voice made his heart stutter and his vision blurry. He blinked, only to realize it was tears that began to stream down his face.
'Oh, poor child. Don't cry.' She mocked, as if he was a child. And then he broke. Everything he'd buried; the grief, the rage, the guilt, all erupted to the surface. He dropped to his knees, sobbing, his swords dissolving into harmless mist.
'Kill me.' He whispered between gasps.
'Not yet, rat. First, I want to know how you do it.'
'Just… end my miserable life.' Ashen rasped, his voice hollow. Laenara reached for him, gripping his hair and jerking his face up to hers.
'How do you use the mist without me sensing it?' She demanded. 'Tell me how you make it seem like you're not even channeling the mist. Tell me and I might stop this slaughter.' But Ashen stared through her, lost. Half the orphans were already dead. What was the point of saving the rest if he'd failed them all?
Laenara suddenly beamed with realization, and then threw back her head and laughed. 'Who knew a rat like you could be so special?' Her voice softened, almost gentle. 'Do you even know what you are?'
A failure? A weak excuse of a shadewright? A rat?
'I'll tell you.' She leaned closer and continued, 'You're a child of doom, a shadewright who doesn't need to draw power from the mist like the rest of us. You have your own magic, Ashen. Do you realize how important that makes you?'
Ashen stared at her blankly, unable to process the weight of her words.
'Forget the dark relics. You could become the greatest weapon in this empire. You could topple the El Kai himself if you wanted to. With you under my control, I'd even rule the Vael Empire.' She then let out an evil laugh.
Was she lying? Was she playing with him? Or could it be true?
Suddenly, a crashing impact rattled the floor. Ashen, startled, jerked his gaze toward the dorms, just as Sith came hurtling through the air and slammed into the ground, blood spraying across the stones.
The black guard with the sword stalked after him, blade dripping with freshly spilled blood.
Laenara smirked. 'Ah. Seems you weren't the only shadewright here.'
The black guard suddenly buried his sword into Sith's chest. His eyes bulged. Blood frothed from his mouth as he let out a strangled cry. His eyes locked onto Ashen's, filled with pain, and blame. It was as if he was saying, I'm dead because of you.
Before Ashen could move, a shriek split the air. Liora, Sith's sister, lunged for her brother's body, screaming his name. But as she reached for him, the black guard swung his blade.
Liora's head fell from her shoulders and her tiny body dropped beside Sith's.
A single orphan wailed. It echoed through the hall like a funeral bell, drawing the attention of the black guards to the remaining orphans who were curled up together, trying to escape.
'End it.' Laenara ordered the fire-wielder.
The guard's eyes flared orange as a grin formed on his lips. Mist whirled around his fists, igniting into blazing flames as he rushed towards the orphans.
'No! Run!' Ashen roared at the orphans, at Laina who was shielding the other orphans from the black guard. She was scared, she was powerless, and yet she was brave enough to shield the others from the attack.
But it didn't matter. The fireball exploded outward, burning everything on its way. Screams were silenced in a flash of blinding heat. Charred bodies crumpled as the wall behind them exploded.
In that instant, Ashen smelled burnt hair and flesh, making bile rose in his throat. Laina's dying smile etched itself into his mind. She'd mouthed something, but he'd never know what, which made her death hurt even more as her dying words would never be known.
Something inside Ashen snapped. His heart pounded, pumping raw power through his veins. A terrifying strength radiated from his skin. For the first time, he felt magic without drawing from the mist.
Laenara was right. He had power of his own.
He roared, eyes blazing with hatred. Around him, large tendrils began to gather, a physical manifestation of his anger and desire to kill Laerana and the black guards. Laenara stumbled back, watching them swirl protectively around Ashen. Energy ripped through his body, draining his life force. But he didn't care. If he died, he'd take them all with him.
'DIE!' He shouted as he directed all of his magic at the black guards, the tendrils following his command.
The fire-wielding black guard tried to erect a wall of flames. But four tendrils tunneled under the floor, emerging past the fire. One punched clean through his chest, leaving a gaping hole where his heart had been. Two more severed his arms and his lifeless body slumped forward.
The second black guard dodged most of the assault. A single tendril severed his hand, but like Laenara, he began to regenerate.
'Die!' Ashen howled again, but as the tendrils faded, he realized with horror, his magic was gone.
He clawed inward for any spark of power. He tried to reach deep inside him, searching for any traces of energy or magic, but he found nothing. It was too soon. He should kill them all, he told himself as images of the brutal murders he had witnessed flashed through his mind. The matron. Sith. Laina. Liora. The many other orphans who once adored him but were now dead because of him.
His vision blurred. He could feel his consciousness slipping. Or was it his life? He wished it was the latter, for he had lost every will to leave for if he lived, he'd become Laenara's tool.
I have to die, he told himself as he tried to use his last remaining traces of strength. He had heard of many shadewrights who had died after using magic past the limits of their body. But there was nothing.
Laenara's laughter echoed as he began to slip away. But just as the world began to turn black, Ashen felt the air shift.
A colossal wave of mist surged through the orphanage, so dense he couldn't even see. A pulse of pressure rippled outward, rattling stones and shaking the entire orphanage. The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
Who could summon mist like this?
Then the roof exploded. Wood and rubble rained down. From the black sky, a figure descended, floating inches above the floor, cloaked in swirling shadows.
Ashen's eyes fought to stay open. As the mist peeled away, he glimpsed a man wearing a long, dark coat that whipped in unseen winds. His chest was bare, his torso marked with scars and runes. Tight, ragged pants clung to his legs that reached just halfway below his knees. His feet were bare, crusted in dirt.
Laenara's eyes widened in a flash of genuine fear. 'You rebel scum!' She snarled, summoning mist around her fists, her mist barely noticeable in the dense cloud that was the rebel's.
Ashen's mind jolted awake. He'd never seen this man, but he knew who he was from whispers in the streets. The man was the leader of the Third eye rebels, the leader who had brought down House Hersch to its knees.
What was he doing here? He asked himself as the world finally turned black.