Shadow and Spell A Tale of Redemption Part 5
The Choice of Shadows
Darkness swallowed the chamber as the shadows writhed to life. The air turned heavy, thick with unseen magic that pulsed from the Heart of Tenebris. Vaelin tightened his grip on his daggers, his every instinct screaming at him to run—but there was nowhere to go.
Elira stood frozen, her hand still hovering over the orb, its pulsing darkness twisting unnaturally. Her green eyes flickered between fascination and terror. “Vaelin,” she whispered, “something’s waking up.”
“No kidding,” he growled, shifting into a defensive stance as the shadows coalesced into a towering figure. The being’s form was fluid, an ever-changing mass of black mist and piercing ember-like eyes. Its voice slithered through the air, neither loud nor soft, but resonating deep within their bones.
“The Seeker’s blood… the Assassin’s hands… fate weaves your path here.”
Elira swallowed hard. “Who are you?”
The entity tilted its formless head. “A question unworthy of an answer. I am what remains. I am what must be.”
Vaelin’s patience was razor-thin. “Great. Can you ‘remain’ somewhere else?”
The shadows trembled in what might have been amusement. “You misunderstand, assassin. This is no longer your path to walk. The Heart has chosen.”
Elira’s breath hitched. “Chosen? Chosen for what?”
The air trembled. The Heart pulsed with renewed vigor, its darkness stretching toward Elira, curling around her fingertips. Vaelin lunged forward, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back. The connection severed, and the entity screamed—a sound that made the stone walls tremble and the air crackle with raw power.
“You dare defy the will of the Heart?”
Vaelin stepped between Elira and the entity, daggers poised. “She’s not ‘chosen’ for anything unless she chooses it herself.”
Elira stared at him, wide-eyed. “Vaelin—”
“No.” His voice was firm, unyielding. “You wanted to find the Heart, now you have. But whatever this thing wants? You don’t owe it a damn thing.”
For a moment, the chamber was deathly silent.
Then, the shadows surged forward.
Vaelin reacted on instinct. He shoved Elira behind him and slashed at the darkness, but his blades met no resistance. The entity’s form curled around him like smoke, its voice a deafening whisper in his mind.
“You are nothing but a blade, a tool wielded by others. Why fight for a cause not your own?”
A cold dread seeped into Vaelin’s thoughts. He had spent years serving the will of others, following contracts, cutting down lives for coin. Was that all he was? A weapon without a master?
“Embrace the shadow, assassin. Become what you were always meant to be.”
Pain seared through his mind. The memories of every life he had taken flashed before his eyes—the screams, the blood, the silence that followed. The weight of his past threatened to pull him under.
Then, another voice broke through.
“Vaelin! Don’t listen!”
Elira’s voice—sharp, desperate, real.
Vaelin clenched his teeth and forced his thoughts back into the present. He wasn’t just a blade anymore. He had made a choice. He decided who he was.
With a roar, he drove his dagger deep into the pedestal beneath the Heart. The impact sent a shockwave through the chamber. The shadows shrieked as cracks splintered through the stone, disrupting the flow of magic.
The entity’s form wavered. “No—”
Elira acted instantly, channeling her magic. A surge of radiant light erupted from her staff, consuming the darkness. The Heart’s pulsing glow flickered wildly, its essence unraveling as the pedestal beneath it collapsed.
The shadows screamed one last time before dissipating entirely.
Silence fell.
Vaelin exhaled heavily, staggering back as the darkness faded. Elira caught his arm, steadying him. They looked at the remains of the Heart of Tenebris—now nothing more than a fractured husk of black crystal, its power spent.
“It’s over,” she breathed.
Vaelin looked at her, chest rising and falling with exhaustion. “For now.”
Elira offered a small, tired smile. “You saved me.”
He shrugged. “You saved me first.”
She tilted her head. “So we’re even?”
Vaelin smirked. “Not even close.”
A distant rumble echoed through the chamber. The ruins were collapsing.
Elira groaned. “Right. Of course.”
Without another word, they ran, dodging falling debris as they ascended the staircase and burst into the open night. The ruins trembled behind them, the entrance caving in with a final, deafening crash. Dust and moonlight filled the air.
They stood in silence, staring at what was left of the ancient temple.
Vaelin turned to Elira. “So… what now?”
She took a deep breath, then smiled. “Now? We find out who sent the Silent Fang after me.”
Vaelin chuckled. “And here I thought we were done with people trying to kill us.”
She grinned. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
Vaelin sighed dramatically. “I should’ve stayed an assassin.”
Elira patted his shoulder. “Too late for that.”
And as they disappeared into the forest, the stars shining overhead, Vaelin realized he didn’t mind at all.
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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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