The echo of thunder still lingered in Kael's bones as the shadow melted into nothingness. For a heartbeat, all he heard was his own ragged breathing and the distant, mocking laughter of Silas in his mind.
Rylan broke the silence, voice trembling. "You're going to tell me what that was, right?"
Kael wiped sweat from his brow, careful to keep his face blank. "It was a wraith. They're drawn to the shifting zones."
Rylan's eyes narrowed. "That wasn't just a wraith. You—" He hesitated, glancing at Kael's sword, then at the fading scorch marks on the ground. "You did something. With your blade."
Kael sheathed his sword, forcing his hands to steady. "We're alive. That's what matters." He turned away, hoping Rylan would let it drop. He should have known better.
Rylan grabbed his arm, voice low and urgent. "Kael, I've known you a long time. Don't lie to me. What happened back there?"
A flicker of guilt twisted in Kael's chest. He met Rylan's gaze, searching for anger or fear, but found only worry.
He deserves the truth, Kael thought. But not here. Not yet.
"We need to move," Kael said instead. "That thing won't be alone."
Rylan hesitated, then nodded. He fell into step beside Kael, silent but watchful.
They pressed deeper into the ruins. The air grew colder, the mist thickening until it clung to their skin like damp cloth. Every step echoed in the emptiness, and Kael felt the weight of unseen eyes on his back.
You're slipping, little storm, Silas purred in his mind. One spark, and your secrets burn bright. How long before your friend sees you for what you are?
Kael gritted his teeth. You're quiet for days, then you show up just to taunt me?
You're close to something important. I like to watch you squirm when the truth is near.
Kael forced the voice aside, focusing on the path ahead. They passed toppled statues and shattered columns, each carved with runes older than the city itself. The symbols tugged at Kael's memory, but every time he tried to grasp them, they slipped away like water through his fingers.
They reached the heart of the ruins—a plaza ringed by broken arches. At its center stood a pedestal, half-buried in rubble. Something glimmered atop it, half-hidden by dust and shadow.
Rylan moved first, curiosity overcoming caution. He brushed debris aside, revealing a small, ornate box. Its surface was etched with the same runes as the fountain, and it pulsed faintly with blue light.
"Think it's worth something?" Rylan asked, turning the box over in his hands.
Kael's magic prickled in warning. "Careful. It might be warded."
Rylan grinned. "Since when are you the cautious one?"
Kael ignored the jab, studying the box. The runes seemed to shift under his gaze, rearranging themselves into patterns he almost recognized. His heart pounded as a fragment of memory surfaced—his father's voice, urgent and afraid.
"If you ever find the box, don't open it. Not until you're ready."
Kael reached out, fingers brushing the lid. The box vibrated, warmth seeping into his skin. Images flashed behind his eyes: a city swallowed by mist, shadows writhing through empty streets, and a blade dripping with silver light.
He jerked his hand back, breath catching.
Rylan frowned. "What is it?"
Kael shook his head. "I'm not sure. But it's important."
Very important, Silas whispered, almost gleeful. That box holds a piece of your past. But opening it will cost you more than you know.
Kael's jaw tightened. What do you mean?
Every answer has a price, Kael. You of all people should know that.
A low rumble shook the ground, dust cascading from the broken arches. Kael spun, sword drawn. From the mist, shadows slithered—dozens of wraiths, their eyes burning with cold fire.
Rylan swore, backing toward Kael. "We can't fight them all."
Kael's magic surged, lightning crackling along his blade. He glanced at Rylan. "Stay behind me."
Rylan nodded, clutching the box to his chest.
The wraiths circled, hissing in a language older than stone. Kael's heart hammered, the storm inside him roaring for release.
Let go, Silas urged. Show them what you are.
Kael hesitated. Using his magic would reveal everything—to Rylan, to the wraiths, to anyone watching. But there was no other choice.
He raised his sword, lightning arcing from the blade. The first wraith lunged, shrieking. Kael met it head-on, steel and storm colliding in a flash of light. The creature dissolved, but two more took its place.
Kael moved like a force of nature, blade flashing, magic crackling. Each swing left scorch marks on the stone, each bolt of lightning tearing through the shadows. The wraiths shrieked, recoiling from the storm, but they kept coming.
Rylan fought at his side, slashing with a short sword, but it was Kael's magic that turned the tide. The last wraith fell with a scream, dissolving into mist.
Kael staggered, breath ragged. The plaza was silent again, save for the soft hum of the box in Rylan's hands.
Rylan stared at him, awe and fear mingling in his eyes. "You… You're a mage. All this time?"
Kael wiped blood from his cheek, meeting Rylan's gaze. "I had to hide it. It's… complicated."
Rylan opened his mouth, but Kael held up a hand. "Later. We need to get out of here."
Rylan nodded, tucking the box into his pack. Together, they picked their way back through the ruins, the mist parting before them.
As they reached the edge of the shifting zone, Kael felt Silas's presence settle over him like a shroud.
You're running out of time, little storm. The box is only the beginning. Are you ready to pay the price for what comes next?
Kael didn't answer. He stared at the city beyond the mist, the weight of the box and his secrets pressing down on him.
He had survived the shadows. But the real cost was yet to come.