"There's still time, you know. You could join me. Become more."
"I'd rather rot," Revan hissed.
The man smirked. "Then you're right on schedule."
He turned, crossing to a nearby table cluttered with runes and tools. A knife glinted among them.
Revan's heart kicked. This is it. Either I die now, or...
And then—
A sound.
Subtle. Controlled. But Revan had spent a lifetime in alleys, learning to hear what others missed.
A shift in air pressure. The faintest creak of metal hinges.
Someone had opened a door.
And whoever it was—moved like Cassie.
Revan's eyes flicked to his shadow in the corner.
Still crouched. Still motionless.
"Lazy bastard," Revan muttered under his breath.
But he didn't smile. Not yet.
If that door opened—if Cass was here—there might still be a way out. But he had to be ready.
And the man with no shadow was reaching for the knife.
The man without a shadow's hand hovered over the knife, fingers curling like a spider ready to strike.
Revan's breath was shallow, every second stretching into an eternity.
His eyes darted to the ropes biting into his wrists and ankles.
Too tight. No chance to break free.
He glanced to his shadow in the corner—the one he'd summoned, the only thing between life and death right now.
It was still curled there, inert and lazy, like a slumbering beast.
Come on, Revan thought desperately. I need you now.
The shadow twitched, a small ripple across its smoky form, as if acknowledging the urgency.
Outside the door, the soft shuffle of footsteps grew louder.
Revan's heart hammered.
He could hear Cassie's breath, steady but quickened with fear and determination.
His captor turned slowly, savoring the moment, savoring Revan's helplessness.
But then—a sudden shift in the air.
The door's ancient hinges groaned softly as it eased open.
A sliver of cold moonlight spilled into the room, cutting through the stale gloom.
"Revan!" came a whisper, fierce and low.
Cassie's voice.
The man snapped his head toward the door, eyes flashing black as night itself.
Revan's shadow finally stirred, stretching and unfurling like smoke unleashed.
It surged forward, a living shield as the man lunged for the knife.
Cassie stepped into the dim room, her breath steady but her heart pounding like a war drum.
Her eyes locked on Revan—bound, bruised, but alive.
Without hesitation, she whispered, "Ice Trap!"
Frost burst from her palms, freezing the air in a sharp spray that shot toward the man's feet.
Caught off guard, he stumbled back, the ice wrapping around his boots and rooting him to the spot.
Revan's shadow surged forward, a swirling mass of darkness that whipped around the man's legs, tightening like a serpent's coil.
The man snarled, struggling against the creeping cold and shadow—his face twisted in rage.
Cassie darted forward, dagger gleaming, and slashed at the ropes binding Revan's wrists.
"Come on, Revan!" she hissed.
Freed, Revan pushed himself up, pain blazing through his limbs but adrenaline sharpening his focus.
Together, they moved like shadows and ice—Cassie's magic freezing and biting, Revan's shadowcraft striking and confusing.
The man broke free from the icy trap, but the shadows tangled him once more, slowing his charge.
Revan lunged, dagger flashing, while Cassie summoned shards of ice to pierce through the air.
The fight was brutal and quick, a desperate dance of light, darkness, and frost.
Finally, the man stumbled, clutching a bleeding side as Revan's shadow pressed in like a suffocating cloak.
Cassie stepped forward, dagger at his throat.
"Tell us what you want," she demanded, voice steady but fierce.
The man's eyes flickered with pain—and something else.
Defeat? Or respect?
He swallowed hard and said, "You don't understand the power you're meddling with. This is only the beginning."
Cassie's dagger hovered just inches from the man's throat, her icy gaze burning into his dark eyes.
Revan steadied himself beside her, still feeling the sting of his wounds but ready for whatever came next.
The man gasped, blood trickling down his chin.
"You think this is about a stolen book? About petty magic?" His voice was low, almost a growl.
"No." He coughed, wincing from the pain. "It's about control. Power older than kingdoms, darker than night itself."
Revan exchanged a wary glance with Cassie.
"The shadow magic you wield... it's a fragment of something far greater."
Cassie tightened her grip. "What do you mean?"
The man's eyes darkened further, almost black pools reflecting something terrible.
"There's a force—an ancient entity—that feeds on shadows. It's been bound away for centuries, but its influence seeps into this world through magic like yours."
Revan felt a chill run deeper than the cold from Cassie's ice.
"If you keep using that book, keep summoning shadows..." The man's voice dropped to a whisper.
"You're opening the door. And once it's open, it won't close again."
Cassie's jaw clenched. "How do we stop it?"
The man's gaze flickered with pain and something like pity.
"There's a price for every spell. For every shadow you summon, you lose a part of yourself."
He coughed again, voice weaker now.
"And soon, you won't have a self left to save."
Revan's breath caught as the man's words sank deep into his mind.
"The shadows you summon… they're more than magic," the man rasped. "They're a thread to something darker, older..."
Cassie's eyes narrowed, heart pounding. "What do you mean? What's coming?"
The man's gaze flickered, pain and urgency mingling in his dark eyes.
"There's no time. You must stop before it's too late."
Then, suddenly, his eyes fluttered closed.
A shallow breath.
And silence.
Revan shook the man gently. "Hey! You're not done. Tell us—"
But the man's chest was still.
Cassie knelt down, her voice trembling. "He's gone."
Revan's shadow slackened, the room feeling colder, emptier.
"We lost our only lead," Revan muttered, frustration and fear rising in his throat.
Cassie's voice was steady but quiet. "We have to keep going. Whatever this is, it won't wait for us to be ready."
Revan clenched his fists, the weight of the unknown pressing down harder than ever.
"We find the answers ourselves."