Shadow & Spell: A Tale of Redemption Part 1
The Contract That Changed Everything
The rain fell in thick, unrelenting sheets, turning the streets of Duskwatch into a shimmering labyrinth of slick cobblestones and shadowy alleys. Lanterns cast flickering pools of light that did little to push back the oppressive darkness. It was a night for secrets, for those who lurked unseen. A night made for killers.
Vaelin Duskbane thrived in such conditions.
Perched on the ledge of a stone parapet, he scanned the courtyard below. His target was inside the three-story manor—a rogue mage who, according to his employer, had meddled in things best left undisturbed. The contract was clear: eliminate her, no loose ends.
Simple. At least, it should have been.
Vaelin adjusted his grip on his twin daggers, their dark steel gleaming under the pale light of the moon. He moved like a shadow, slipping through an open window on the upper floor. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of parchment, old wood, and something faintly floral—lavender, perhaps. Strange, he thought, for a supposed dark mage to have such delicate tastes.
He crept forward, silent as a whisper, tracking the faint glow of candlelight beneath a door. With practiced ease, he pressed his back against the wall and listened.
“...I told you, Eldrin, I’m not leaving yet.” A woman’s voice, firm but exasperated. “The spellwork is nearly complete. Another day, maybe two—”
“Elira, you don’t have that long,” a second voice interjected. Male, anxious. “They’ve sent someone after you. If you stay here, you’re as good as dead.”
Vaelin frowned. His employer had told him nothing of this conversation. A rogue mage experimenting with dark magic wasn’t supposed to have loyal friends warning her of imminent danger. His instincts, honed by years of deceit and betrayal, whispered that something was off.
A pause, then a sigh. “Fine,” the woman—Elira—said. “But I need to take my research with me. If I—”
That was all Vaelin needed to hear. If she escaped, he failed the contract. And he did not fail.
In a single fluid motion, he kicked open the door.
The room was cluttered with books, maps, and arcane symbols drawn in silver chalk across the wooden floor. Two figures whirled toward him—one was a wiry man with the look of a scholar, the other was the woman.
Elira Veyne.
Vaelin had expected a shriveled old crone, or perhaps a wild-haired sorceress with glowing red eyes. Instead, she was... young. No older than him, perhaps mid-twenties, with wavy auburn hair framing intelligent green eyes. She was dressed in a simple, deep-blue robe, and in her hand, a staff carved with intricate sigils.
He hesitated, only for a fraction of a heartbeat. It was a mistake.
“Eldrin, move!” Elira shouted, thrusting her staff forward. A pulse of energy surged from its tip.
Vaelin dodged, barely avoiding a blast of crackling blue light that shattered the doorframe where he’d stood. The scholar—Eldrin—bolted past him, knocking over a stack of books in his panic. Vaelin let him go. He wasn’t the target.
“Clever,” Vaelin said, rolling his shoulders. “But I’ve faced worse.”
Elira narrowed her eyes. “Then you should have learned when to run.”
She muttered an incantation, and the sigils on the floor flared to life. The room’s temperature dropped, and a gust of arcane wind whipped around them. Vaelin felt the air grow heavy with power, pressing against him like invisible hands.
He smirked. “Alright, that’s impressive.”
She launched another attack. A swirling mass of energy streaked toward him, but Vaelin was already moving. He dove, rolled, and came up behind her in a blur of motion. Before she could react, he had a dagger pressed against her throat.
“Drop the staff.”
Elira froze, breathing hard. Vaelin could feel her pulse racing beneath his blade. He expected defiance, maybe an attempt at another spell. Instead, she laughed.
“Well,” she said, catching her breath. “You’re definitely not one of the usual bounty hunters.”
“I’m not a bounty hunter.”
“No, you’re an assassin. Silent Fang, I’m guessing?”
Vaelin’s grip tightened. “You seem awfully calm for someone about to die.”
“Oh, I’m terrified,” she admitted. “But also curious. You hesitated when you saw me. Why?”
He said nothing. He wasn’t sure of the answer himself.
“Something doesn’t add up,” she continued, tilting her head slightly. “Who hired you?”
“That’s not your concern.”
“It is if they lied to you.”
Vaelin frowned. “Explain.”
Elira slowly raised her free hand in a non-threatening gesture. “Whoever sent you told you I was dangerous, didn’t they? That I was working with dark magic?”
“They did.”
“Well, they lied.” She gestured to the books scattered around the room. “I’m researching a way to stop dark magic. There’s an artifact—The Heart of Tenebris. It’s said to amplify necromantic power. If it falls into the wrong hands, entire cities could be wiped out. I’m trying to prevent that.”
Vaelin remained silent, weighing her words. He had spent years trusting no one, following only the gold that guided his blade. But something about this job—the setup, the urgency—it reeked of manipulation. And if there was one thing Vaelin despised, it was being used.
He pulled back his dagger. “I don’t like being lied to.”
Elira exhaled in relief. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
“You’re still coming with me.”
She tensed. “Excuse me?”
“I need to confirm your story. If you’re lying, I finish the job. If you’re telling the truth... well, I’ll have to consider what that means for my employer.” He twirled the dagger in his fingers. “And for them, that usually ends badly.”
Elira studied him for a long moment, then sighed. “I suppose that’s the best offer I’m going to get.”
“Smart woman.”
She grabbed a satchel from the table and slung it over her shoulder. “Just so you know, I have a habit of talking. A lot.”
Vaelin groaned. “Fantastic.”
As they stepped out into the rain, a distant horn sounded—deep, echoing, and ominous. Vaelin’s instincts flared.
“We need to move,” he muttered.
Elira raised an eyebrow. “That’s the first thing you’ve said that I actually agree with.”
And with that, the assassin and the mage disappeared into the storm, their fates entwined in a way neither could yet understand.
___________________________________________________
All Parts of This Series
About the Creator
Richard Bailey
I am currently working on expanding my writing topics and exploring different areas and topics of writing. I have a personal history with a very severe form of treatment-resistant major depressive disorder.
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