Kaelen wandered the halls of the Shadow King's citadel with footsteps that made no sound. Wherever he walked, he noticed it now—his absence. No shadow trailed at his feet. He reached toward walls lit by black torches, but the light revealed nothing of him. The hollowness in his chest persisted, as though part of him had been carved away.
And yet… he saw more. The air shimmered with threads of darkness, woven into patterns like constellations. Faces flickered at the edge of sight, echoes of the long dead. The very stones whispered in voices too faint for any mortal to hear. The King had spoken true: without his shadow, he walked closer to truth.
But truth had teeth.
That night, Seraphyne came to him. She found him in a balcony overlooking Umbriel's twilight valley, the black sun bleeding across jagged peaks. Her silver eyes glimmered like mirrors.
"So, you are shadowless now," she said softly, her voice carrying a trace of something like pity. "Few survive the taking. Fewer still remain… themselves."
Kaelen turned to her. "Do you mean to say I've lost myself?"
Her lips curved faintly. "Not yet. But already, I see it. Your eyes are not wholly yours. They are the King's now."
Kaelen frowned. "I chose this path. To know the truth."
"Ah," she murmured. "But truth is a chain, not a gift." She leaned on the railing, her gaze sweeping the land. "The King speaks of vengeance, of return. He believes Umbriel will rise again to claim the mortal world. But what he does not say—what he will never admit—is the cost. For kingdoms do not return without blood. His herald—you—will be the blade that carves the way."
Kaelen stiffened. "I came to learn, not to serve as executioner."
"And yet you agreed to become his herald."
Her words cut deeper than any blade. He clenched his fists. "Why tell me this? You are his consort. Are you not bound to him?"
Her silver eyes flickered. "Bound, yes. Loyal… no."
Kaelen stared. "Then what do you want?"
She looked at him fully now, her expression stripped of mystery, revealing something raw beneath. "I want freedom. I have served him a thousand years, longer than you can fathom. I was mortal once, like you. A queen of the living world. When Umbriel fell, he bound me to his side. I cannot escape. Not unless he is undone."
Her confession stole Kaelen's breath. "Undone? You mean—killed?"
The word hung heavy between them. She nodded. "He is not invincible. His strength lies in the shadows he commands. But shadows cannot exist without light. Sever his bond to the black sun, and his kingdom will collapse. He will collapse."
Kaelen's mind spun. To destroy the King—could it be done? The thought was both impossible and intoxicating. But he remembered the King's presence, his suffocating power, the way his very gaze could unmake a man. "And if he falls? What becomes of Umbriel?"
Seraphyne's eyes darkened. "It unravels. The shadows dissolve. We who were bound will be free, or destroyed. I cannot know which."
Kaelen gripped the railing, the weight of her words pressing into him. To strike at the King was to risk unmaking an entire realm. Yet to serve him meant carrying the burden of his vengeance into the world above. Either path demanded blood.
Seraphyne stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You must decide, Kaelen. Herald of shadow—or breaker of chains."
For a long time, he could not speak. At last, he said, "If I choose to oppose him… how?"
She drew a small shard of crystal from her robes, glowing faintly with silver light. "This is a fragment of the White Sun—the last light stolen from Umbriel before its fall. Hidden for centuries. With it, you can pierce the heart of the black sun. But you must act swiftly, before he uses you to open the veil between worlds."
Kaelen took the shard, its warmth searing his palm. He felt its light pulsing, alive, as though it remembered a world of dawn and stars. Hope and terror twined in his chest.
"Why me?" he asked. "Why not you?"
Her face softened, almost mournful. "Because I am bound. He sees through me. Watches me always. But you—your shadow is his now. He believes he owns you. That arrogance blinds him. He will not see your betrayal until the end."
Silence stretched. Then Kaelen nodded. "Then I will do it. I will end him."
For the first time, Seraphyne's lips curved in something like a true smile. "Then perhaps there is hope, after all."
The days that followed were a blur of rituals and commands. The King summoned Kaelen often, teaching him to bend shadows, to draw knowledge from whispers, to walk unseen. Kaelen obeyed, learning swiftly, hiding the shard close to his chest. All the while, the emptiness within him grew, the whisper of his stolen shadow clawing louder.
We belong to him, it hissed. Do not fight him. You are already his.
Kaelen shut it out, clinging to the shard's warmth. But doubt gnawed at him. Each time the King spoke, part of him wanted to kneel, to surrender. The man he had been—the scholar—felt distant now, fading like a dream at dawn.
At last, the King declared it was time. In the grand court, before his shadow-lords, he raised Kaelen's hand high.
"Behold my herald!" his voice thundered. "The veil between worlds weakens. Through him, Umbriel shall rise again! The living shall kneel before the forgotten!"
The court roared with whispers like a storm. Kaelen's heart pounded. The shard of the White Sun burned hot against his skin, as though urging him.
Then the King turned to him. "Go, shadowless one. Open the way."
A circle of obsidian stones rose in the court's center, etched with runes that glowed with black fire. The air above them rippled, thin as a veil of water. Beyond, Kaelen glimpsed flashes of the mortal world—green forests, blue skies, a sun of gold. His breath caught. Home.
The King's crimson gaze bore into him. "Do it."
Kaelen stepped forward. His hand trembled as he reached toward the veil. In his other palm, hidden beneath his robes, the shard pulsed. Behind him, Seraphyne's silver eyes fixed on him, steady, unwavering.
The choice was before him. To obey—and become the instrument of Umbriel's return. Or to defy—and plunge the shard into the heart of the black sun, risking the unraveling of all.
His shadow whispered, urging surrender. The shard burned, urging defiance.
Kaelen closed his eyes and chose.