Laenara's worst day had gotten even worse. How could a day she had been eagerly looking forward to become her worst day? This was the day she was supposed to meet her promised, the second son of House Veyla, one of the thirteen great houses of Vaen. It was something her father had been working toward for years, an alliance with the Veyla, sealed by marriage. All she had to do was show up for the party and look pretty, her father's words.
This had led her on a quest to find a necklace that would match her dress. To feel safe, she took the family's dark relic, only for it to be stolen.
Knowing her father, the great Lord Draemos, she needed to find the orb, or else she would suffer his wrath. She was already a disappointment to him, for unlike her siblings, she had failed in her military career. If she were responsible for losing her family's dark relic, her father would make her wish for death.
Luckily, the two black guards were able to trace the thief who had stolen her purse. Since they were obligated to obey the highborn, they accompanied her to the orphanage, where they met Ashen, the thief responsible for spoiling her special day. To hide the blunder she had made, she decided to kill the entire orphanage, lest her father hear about it. But in the process, she discovered something that would make her father proud, a child of doom.
Shadewrights were those born to wield the magic in the mist, but there were legends of those who were born with their own innate magic. However, they were feared by all due to their potential and power, hence the people called them children of doom. Still, they were very rare. In fact, in the five-thousand-year history of the Vael Empire, only six children of doom had existed. Each had made such an impact on the world that they became legends. And if her house had one under their control, their goal of becoming the most dominant house in the empire would quickly be achieved.
However, all of that was now being threatened by the man floating above her. Was he after the child of doom too?
Even though he was just a rebel, she acknowledged the power he possessed. He was the man who had single-handedly defeated House Hersch. Her new mission of attaining Ashen had just gotten harder, though not impossible.
'You rebel scum!' She shouted, imagining the power the rebels would wield if they had the child of doom by their side, and that she would be the one to let it happen. She imagined her father's disgust, which enraged her as she readied herself to fight the powerful man.
'I admire you for wanting to fight, even after knowing my strength dwarfs yours. Let me take that child, and you might have a story to share at your highborn tea parties.' His voice was calm and composed, yet mocking and threatening.
Finally, he stepped onto the ground, and a wave of his power pulsed outward. What sort of shadewright is he? She wondered, trying to find any clue. Her father had always taught her that knowing your opponent's capabilities was half the battle won. He had the ability to fly. Did that mean he was an elemental using air? If he was, and he could fly, it meant he was far stronger and more skilled than she was. Still, she stood her ground. A Draemos never backs down from a fight.
'You must be trying to figure out what kind of magic user I am, huh?' He had a teasing smirk on his face, which aggravated Laenara.
He took another step, and his overwhelming presence grew with yet another wave of force that almost pushed her away. Force? It wasn't air, but a push. Which meant one thing—he was…
'It seems you've figured that out.' Instead of looking worried, his smirk remained, angering her further. Knowing the ability of your opponent in a shadewright battle almost assured victory. Was he looking down on her? If so, she would make sure he regretted it.
She turned to the table that had somehow survived, picked it up with ease, and threw it at him. She watched as the table flew toward him, only to suddenly stop in the air and shatter into hundreds of pieces. It was as if it had hit a wall, an invisible wall. She had finally confirmed his magic. Now it was time to fight.
The debris from the table's destruction wasn't only a test but a distraction, as the many pieces of wood would block his view, even for a second or two. By the time the air cleared, she planned to have made her attack.
However, just as she was about to lunge at him, her fist charged with strength, she instinctively stopped. Something was wrong. Looking at the debris again, she realized that it was still floating around him. Seeing that made her take a step back out of fear.
Her brother also used telekinesis, just like the rebel before her. Even though it was a terrifying power, it was also quite limited. Her brother had once described telekinesis as simply having an extra hand that was invisible. That meant he was limited to what one could move physically: if you couldn't lift it with your normal body, you couldn't with telekinesis. Second, it required focus, so much so that even holding two objects was difficult. And yet, the monster standing before her was breaking those two rules.
To make matters worse, his hands were still pocketed, as if what he was doing meant nothing to him. The hundreds of broken pieces of wood floated around him, a reminder of his strength. He moved a large piece that was blocking his face, then sighed.
'Even now, you still want to fight?' He asked, amused. It reminded her of her fight with Ashen, how she had been the one seeking pleasure and thrill from the fight. Now, she was the one fighting for her life, risking death.
Her fists clenched. She was not only nervous but intimidated. But then, she thought of the praise she would receive if she defeated one of the five leaders of the rebels. She would be seen as a hero, maybe even catch up to her siblings' achievements in the army.
Another reason she had to fight was because she knew the man before her wouldn't let her leave, especially with the knowledge of Ashen. If he wanted to use the child of doom, he would need to keep him secret until he was fully realized as a powerful shadewright. Or so she would do if she were in his shoes.
'I have to. There's no way you'd let me leave here alive, because I know about him.' She pointed at Ashen, who still lay on the ground, unconscious. He glanced at Ashen before shrugging.
'You could pinky promise not to tell anyone, Laenara.' He joked, letting out a chuckle, as if he hadn't just revealed he knew her name.
'Is that a threat?' She asked, watching as he took another intimidating step toward her.
'Is it? I'm flattered you think I could ever threaten House Draemos, the house of war.' His smirk vanished. 'Or maybe I am.'
The nerve! Laenara thought as rage built up inside her, quickly replacing the fear she'd felt. What does a lowborn in tattered, dirty clothes, who walks barefoot, think he is, to threaten the noble and powerful house of Draemos?
The anger gave her the confidence to finally attack. When the black guard saw that, it became his cue to join the fight. Had she been a wiser, more experienced fighter, she would have stopped, for it was obvious she was being baited.
Even though the black guard was closer to the rebel leader, she reached him first. They were both enhancers, but whereas his weapon was his sword, her body was her weapon.
In less than a second, she was standing beside him, the pieces of the table separating the two. She knew he would somehow create a force field around himself, but it still depended on his actual strength, which would be diminished by holding up the debris, or so she hoped. Even though they possessed different forms of magic, she knew their fight would ultimately be one of strength, and in that, she excelled as a body enhancer.
With all the power she could muster, she punched one of the larger pieces of wood where she guessed his force field would be weakest. The wooden piece shattered easily, only for her fist to be stopped by a force greater than her blow, a punch she was sure could destroy a stone wall. He's strong, she thought as she saw him hardly raise a finger.
She quickly pulled back, only to bring her fist forward again with even greater force. As before, she met resistance, which she'd expected. She channeled mist and directed the strength borrowed from it into her legs. What if his lower body was unprotected? It was a mistake she had seen many shadewrights make. She dropped to the ground, hands supporting her body, and kicked at his legs, but still couldn't reach him, the invisible wall of force blocking her.
She unleashed a series of low attacks, keeping his attention on her. Finally, she noticed the black guard appear, shrouded in mist, his sword swinging at the unsuspecting rebel whose eyes were on her. Even though he was powerful, she was sure her attacks had distracted him enough for the black guard to go unnoticed. However, as their eyes met, it was he who smiled.
'Your attempt to distract me from him was tactically good.' He paused, then turned to his other opponent, who, despite getting close, found his sword halted inches from the rebel's face. 'I could feel your presence through the mist, the impact of your footsteps on the ground…' He glanced at his own bare feet. So that was why?
The black guard, his face blank and showing no emotion, let out a shout as he tried to push through the force. 'Mist to body, body to strength…' He quickly chanted as mist gathered around him, veins appearing on his exposed hand, cut from Ashen's earlier attack. The strike was strong enough to pierce almost anything, but not the opposing force before him.
The rebel chuckled, amused by the display of strength. When he finished chuckling, he pulled one hand from his pocket. There was a sudden shift in the pressure around them, something Laenara thought almost impossible. He wasn't even fighting at his strongest?
The black guard tried to pull back, but it seemed he couldn't as his body was held in place by the rebel's magic. He raised his hand, and after winking at Laenara, simply tapped the black guard on the forehead with one finger.
For a moment, nothing happened. Laenara thought it a harmless joke. Then, in the next instant, the black guard was flung away with such force that the concrete around them shattered. It was as though the strongest winds had been compressed and unleashed as a single blow. Everything in the path of the attack was obliterated. Windows cracked. Even distant sections of the wall crumbled. The black guard crashed through the wall and into the dormitories, where the attack continued to wreak havoc.
Laenara stood there, shocked, her body trembling. Her hair was disheveled from the blast, and if her dress hadn't been made of strong material, it would have been ripped apart. All that destruction, caused by a single tap on someone's forehead. Nobody could be this strong.
'His head was instantly blown into a million pieces.' The rebel pointed at the trail of blood. 'Even a skilled enhancer couldn't heal from that. Or could you?'
Her heart stopped for a moment when he turned toward her, startling her and instantly paralyzing her with fear. Her heart then began to race, her blood boiled, and sweat beaded all over her body. Was this the power of the rebels? The very group the highborn laughed at? And how powerful would they be with Ashen?
Thoughts raced through her mind so quickly that she couldn't think clearly. What was she supposed to do? What could she do? She even wondered what her father or siblings would have done in her shoes. Nothing. Not even they could stand against this monster.
My life is over, she realized as she glanced at the many bodies of children lying on the floor, all because of her. They hadn't even died for a good reason. It was all because she didn't want her father to be ashamed of her. Is this how my life will end? No. She couldn't let it end this way.
She realized she had a lot to live for. A day earlier, she might have thought her highborn life was boring and meaningless. But now she found herself yearning for that life she'd once complained about. Even marrying that Veyla boy didn't seem so bad. She would give anything to survive, even half her life force.
'Now you seem afraid of dying,' he said, turning toward her and taking a step. Out of primal fear and instinct, she stepped backward. 'I bet the orphans you massacred had that same look.'
'Don't kill me!' She found herself begging, something she had never done in her life.
'Why shouldn't I kill you?' He asked.
'Bec… because, you're a rebel. You fight for the people, and I've surrendered. Don't you have a code? Humanity? And I'm a woman, it would be cruel.' She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind, desperate for time.
'It would be cruel to kill children.' He gestured around her.
'I have value.' She decided to switch tactics. 'My father could pay a lot of money for my release, money am sure the rebels need. Not only that, I could give you important information about the great houses. I could even be your spy.' She hadn't realized she was crying until a tear fell onto her shoe.
'If I were another rebel, that might have worked.' He began cracking his knuckles, each pop making the hairs on her back stand on end.
'So you're a good man?' She blurted out, remembering a story one of the highborn women had told about being saved by a rebel who'd claimed to be honorable. 'You must be one of those rebels who believe in the goodness of people. Everyone deserves a second chance, even me.'
'What about the dead children?'
'I'll atone for my sins. I… I'll do anything. I'll even join you in your quest to free the lowborn. I'll learn to love them as you do… see that they're human, just like us. I'll be the bridge between the highborn and the lowborn. But for that to happen, you have to spare my life.' She was disgusted by the pathetic show she was putting on, but she had to do whatever it took to survive.
It was quiet for a moment, the distant night sounds of Mistia City building a tense atmosphere. Suddenly, the rebel began to laugh. It was terrifying how amused he was, and she took a few steps back.
'You think I'm a rebel because I love the people?' He asked, still chuckling.
'Y… Yes. Isn't that why rebels are trying to liberate the people from us?' She asked honestly.
'Unfortunately, I'm not like the others.' He turned to her, his amused smile dropping as his expression turned serious. 'You think I'm a hero? Selfless? Caring?' He leaned close, their faces separated by only a thin line of air, and she finally saw the rage and hatred burning in his eyes.
'No, no, no.' He leaned back, and mist began to swirl around him, responding to his emotions. 'I'm a rebel because I hate the empire. I'm a rebel because I hate the highborn and want to see this city burn.' He paused to unleash the most chilling laughter.
'Love? I don't care about love. Love makes you weak. It makes you small, stupid, less of a fighter. Love is about accepting bad things and pretending they're good. What good does that do me? But hatred… hatred gives me strength. It gives me a reason to live, to wake up every day in this miserable human life and keep fighting. Hatred is power. Hatred is strength.
'You think the poor wake up every day to work because they love life? No, it's because they hate suffering. You think rebels wake up one day and decide to fight the empire because they love the people? No, it's because they hate you, the black guard, and the government. You think good people are good because they love righteousness? It's because they hate evil. Hatred runs this world. And in this world of hate, I am the most hateful person alive. I am the being that will destroy this empire and its immortal leader. And I need hate for that, because the things I'm about to do to this empire… only hatred will help me achieve them.'
By the time he stopped, the entire orphanage was covered in the mist he commanded. So this was what made him strong? Laenara thought as she wiped her tears and summoned all the hatred she could muster. I'm going to win, she thought as she finally gave in to all the darkness of the mist, the darkness of Shaedorin.
Her body surged with power. Pain followed immediately, coursing through every nerve, but she ignored it. The energy flowed through every vein, muscle, and bone. She let out a furious scream as she charged toward the rebel.
Unlike before, she was faster, stronger. She could regenerate any part of her body in an instant. She felt invincible.
She struck first, her punch colliding with the invisible force protecting him. Her bones cracked under the impact but healed almost instantly. She grinned. She punched again, and again, and again. Though the rebel showed no reaction, Laenara could sense it, he was starting to feel the pressure. She kicked. She headbutted the shield. And finally, she felt a crack.
She closed in, her hand drawn back in victory. She was finally going to land a hit, her fist aimed straight for his face.
But just as she was about to punch, she saw him smile.
She didn't realize it until too late, he had drawn her in yet again. With a sudden shift, his head tilted away from the blow, and his free hand lashed forward.
'Annihilate.' He whispered. In an instant, her arm exploded, reduced to thousands of blood droplets, bits of bone and shredded flesh.
She screamed. The pain was searing, as though a thousand needles had pierced through and ripped her arm away. But the agony vanished just as fast. Her arm regenerated, fully whole again, but at a cost. She felt it. A sudden drain, not just of energy, but of life itself.
She couldn't stop. She wouldn't.
With her newly formed arm, she swung at him again. As expected, he blocked it. But she'd planned for that, her other hand came up fast, striking at his chest. He recoiled, pushed back by the force. She smiled. That was all she wanted, to know he wasn't invincible.
She followed, matching his speed. She struck him with a surprise punch. He responded with a force wave that would have sent her flying, but she dug her feet deep into the ground, anchoring herself. The orphanage, however, couldn't withstand it. The sheer pressure of the blow shattered everything, walls, roof, pillars. The building collapsed, reduced to rubble around them.
Still, she didn't stop. She pressed forward, channeling all her strength into her legs. She blitzed him with punches, kicks, flung debris, anything. Nothing seemed to work.
Then, finally, he face turned stern.
'It's time I take you a bit seriously.'
He moved faster than she could see. One moment, he was several paces away. The next, he was beside her. She tried to dodge, to counter, but her body couldn't match his speed.
He placed his hand just inches from her body.
Then clenched his fist.
And everything turned black.
She was dead.
***
'That was a bit excessive, Kaelen. Even for you.' A voice said from the shadows.
A figure stepped forward, slowly emerging into the faint moonlight. He walked with the help of crutches, his body worn, but his eyes sharp.
Kaelen stood amidst the remains of Laenara's body, a mangled, bloody mess. By applying force to her entire body, he had destroyed her from the inside out. Not even an enhancer with borrowed strength could heal from that. It was complete annihilation.
'I could have let her entertain me,' Kaelen said. 'But my presence has likely alerted the Black Guard. They'll be here soon.'
He walked to where the unconscious Ashen lay.
'After fifteen years, my job of protecting him is finally over, huh?' Jorren asked.
'It doesn't end.' Kaelen replied. 'But at least now he'll be with us. Soon enough, others will know about him, and they'll come for him.'
Kaelen sighed and gently lifted Ashen into his arms. 'I hear he hates rebels. Is that true?'
'Yes,' Jorren said, glancing around at the ruined orphanage and the bodies scattered across the rubble that he gone fond too over the many years. 'This will break him.'
'It will.' Kaelen agreed. 'But it will also make him hate the Empire enough to want to destroy it. And together, we will change history.'
Mist began to swirl around them, cloaking all three. In the distance, the sound of black guards approaching grew louder. By the time they arrived, the mist had cleared, and the three were gone.
***
Vorak, a black guard lieutenant leading a ten-man squad, stepped into the carnage. Total annihilation.
It was a rebel attack. That much was clear. But why target an orphanage?
He smirked. Finally, the rebels have made a mistake. Now, even the people would turn against them. The Empire would use this to fuel fear and hatred, make the very people the rebels claimed to fight for rise against them.
It was poetic justice.
He moved through the debris, scanning what was left. Two black guards had fallen here. What were they doing in an orphanage?
He was about to turn away when he heard something move.
It could be a trap.
He reached for the mist, ready to unleash his power, until he sensed it was a child. A survivor.
The boy was around fifteen, with a sword wound on his chest. But it was healing, and quickly. That meant only one thing, the child was a shadewright.
The boy suddenly sat upright, gasping for air.
'Calm down. You're alive,' Vorak said calmly.
The boy's eyes widened as he looked around, taking in the destruction. Then, he let out a loud cry, a wail of pain and loss.
Vorak let him grieve. He knew the questions would come soon enough.
When the boy quieted, he looked up at Vorak with rage burning behind his tears.
'What is your name?' Vorak asked.
'Sith,' the boy whispered. His fists clenched, his body shaking with fury. Then, raising his head, he spoke with venom.
'Let me join the Black Guard.'
Vorak raised an eyebrow. 'To hunt and kill the one responsible for this?'
Sith's voice trembled with hatred. Yes. His name is Ashen…'