2:43 A.M.

4 January

The flame flickered momentarily, casting long shadows deep into the room where they disappeared into darkness. If the flame were to extinguish, the whole room would descend into the dark yet again – for it was the only thing illuminating the room at the late hour. Yet, the flame did not do justice to the room's splendour and glamour. The flame did not reveal the majestic chandelier overhead, nor did it the numerous collectible paintings, or the bookcases filled with tomes that were ancient yet well-kept. Much like the owner of the mansion, what the flame revealed of the room just barely scratched the surface.

Outside of the room, a butler stood waiting. Nothing indicated that the butler was anything but ordinary – except the gleam in his eyes that were not human-like at all. He carried a silver tray, on which stood a bottle of wine and a wine glass. The predatory eyes flicked to his watch for a moment, though he didn't need to do so. He could tell the time effortlessly, after all; the action was just to distract himself from the worry seeding in him.

The master was late. That was unlikely of the young boy which held much more potential than his age would have suggested. The appearance of the master was one of deception – its sole purpose to make the others underestimate him. Even the butler needed to constantly remind himself that the master was not to be tested – the scar on his right forearm was a reminder of that.

Just then, a wisp of grey mist slithered past the butler, who turned and acquired eye contact with the master. A brief look of concern came over his expression upon seeing the condition of the master – harsh pants, dirt smeared on his clothes which had some rips, and worst of all, blood. Just a small sniff at the air told the butler that indeed, the blood belonged to the master.

Now, this was certainly a cause for concern. After all, the master was regarded by him to be the most powerful one of his kind. Never before had he met anyone who could compare with the master. And yet, someone had wounded the master. Someone had gotten into a fight with him, and had made him tired and late and wounded. This someone – or something – was not ordinary.

"Master, are you-"

One look from him was enough to sink the butler into silence as he regained himself. The butler could not see any prominent wound, which meant that the master had already healed himself. This was, of course, yet another rare ability the master possessed – the ability to heal, and at the same time, to destroy. It was one of the many things why he had become the master's apprentice; why he, being a naturally prideful person, would submit to someone else – another shadow.

"Help me to the room." The master rasped, his voice sounded sickly and the butler knew that the overuse of his powers had drained his master greatly. The opponent must have been overwhelmingly powerful. The master's eyes were not filled with the cold-hearted joy of knowing he had defeated another opponent – no, they flickered from worry to being devoid of emotion, as if he knew the butler could read him. It was evident to the butler that the master had not managed to defeat his opponent – most likely, he had been about to lose and had used the last of his energy to teleport back to his mansion.

The butler hauled one of the master's arms over his shoulder and, with the other hand balancing the tray, somehow managed to open the door and helped the master over to a sofa-like chair. Then, as the master calmed himself down and seemed to meditate, the butler uncorked the wine and poured it into the wine glass, filling it up to 3 quarters. He held it out to the master who accepted it, gulping it all down in one go. Once he finished, he handed it back to the butler.

"Master, what happened?"

The question lingered in the air long after it was asked. The master made no move to answer, but simply closed his eyes and sank yet into another round of deep meditation. The butler sighed. It was just like the master to not tell him anything – for fear that he would betray him or something. Still, this made him quite a bit offended. After all, he had been under the master's guidance for a bit over a year now. And to think the master still did not trust him.

"Go and do your own work. You are going to apply to college soon, are you not?"

At the word college, the butler appeared to stiffen. Yes, he would have been headed to college, had he not met someone who knew of his powers, and had powers of his own too. And yet, that was what had happened. Now, the butler had no idea on what he was to do. Should he continue on to college? Or study under his master?

Shadows were beings that possessed powers – and they shared one common power: to disappear into the shadow at will. Besides that power, shadows also had other powers, which were divided into groups – common, uncommon, and rare. One example of a rare power would be the control over any elemental force, such as water or fire; an example of a common power would be teleportation.

Recently, the butler had gathered that there was a group that were after shadows – seeking to slaughter all of them. This group was called the "Shadow Slayers". The butler had come across this news when he had listened in on his master's conversation with one of his spies. This led to concern, which arose in the butler like a tidal wave. He barely knew what powers he possessed, and just had the faintest idea of how to use them, and now there was a group out for his blood? Quite a revelation indeed.

And just a few minutes ago, the master had been late and wounded. Had he been involved with a fight against the Shadow Slayers? Or was it another shadow?

Well, whatever it was, he was sure to be informed of it later on, when the master has affirmed and confirmed the threat. And then, finally, he would be given a mission – the details didn't really matter. He would finally be able to use his powers once again. And he would get to start training to perfect his skills and powers, to prepare for –most likely- war.

War. The very thought of it sent a rush of adrenaline coupled with dread racing through him. War was bloody. War was horrible. But war was also a way to resolve things when the other side did not want to talk things over. War was a solution when the other side was too violent and would not listen to logic. If it was war they were preparing for, it would mean an end to all the lazy, despised evenings when he had nothing to do.

And so, the butler strolled out of the room, the previous question long forgotten.

4:38 A.M

4 January

The flash of light slashed across and struck his side. Tetsuya muffled a moan of pain and gritted his teeth instead. One of his hands reached down to where he had been struck and was now bleeding while the other one aimed blindly at the rapidly moving Slayer to fire off a blast of ice. Expectedly, the Slayer moved to the side, effortlessly dodging the blast and called upon a sword of lightning to his hands.

Tetsuya's senses were overloaded with pain and numbness – the pain receptors in his side numbed down as if on instinct, but it was not enough to rid the awful, hot pain burning in his wound. It was at times as such that Tetsuya wished he had healing and defensive powers instead of purely offensive powers.

The crackle and buzz of the sword hummed in the air as the Slayer appeared to dance with it, twisting around and jabbing at Tetsuya. It was only due to experience and drilled senses that Tetsuya managed to avoid the strikes. After a well-placed kick sent the Slayer stumbling, Tetsuya concentrated hard enough to materialize a sword of ice – just in time to block a stab from the Slayer.

Both Shadow and Slayer engaged in a seemingly elegant yet furious sword dance. Blow after blow were exchanged and the battle went on endlessly, proving to be a battle of stamina. Finally, a stab in the wrong direction caught Tetsuya off guard and with one flick of his sword, the Slayer sent the ice sword clattering off and him sprawling onto the ground.

A violent fit of coughing came over Tetsuya, whose eyes seemed to glimmer with something akin to hatred as the Slayer approached him. The Slayer seemed to be wearing a gloating smirk behind the black hood that shielded his face as he approached Tetsuya, who lay there panting.

And then, he was gone.

The Slayer swerved around abruptly and was knocked out cold with a blow with the handle of the ice sword. Tetsuya wore an expression of calmness and yet no one could mistake the determination he exuded as he placed his hands over the Slayer's head and closed his own eyes.

Memories surrounded him – from childhood pasts to dreams. But those were not what Tetsuya was looking for. Tetsuya was looking for any information related to why this man had suddenly charged him while Tetsuya was on a mission and had attempted to kill him. Upon delving further, Tetsuya discovered a component that had writings all over it and was labelled "Shadow Slayers". According to the information, this man was a Slayer, one of many, which were a group that was formed to take down every Shadow there was.

Blue eyes snapped open in shock. This information bothered Tetsuya enormously, though he did not show so. While he was pleasantly surprised that he was not the only person of his kind, he was also suspicious at how this group, the Slayers had come to be in possession of this information. Was the founder a Shadow himself? But should the founder be a Shadow, why would he feel the need to slay other Shadows? Unless he had some kind of complex like Aomine-

'Stop.' Tetsuya closed his eyes once again, but this time was not to rummage further through the Slayer's mind, but to calm himself down. He did not want to reminisce about his past anymore. While basketball had indeed been a big part of his life, he had to move on now. It would not do to be stuck in his memories while, if the group persisted so, a war was about to start.

Tetsuya stood up abruptly, brushing off the leaves on him. His fingers wandered towards his pendant and he, almost absent-mindedly, tugged down on the pendant and he disappeared off to whichever destination he had in mind. All that remained were the unconscious Slayer and the light, barely unheard hum of remaining energy in the forest clearing.

Finished on 16/3/2015

This was tiring. The fight scene was unplanned but it just came out.

This chapter is unedited. Maybe in the future when I'm not so tired.

If you guys have ANY questions, please just ask in the reviews. For the questions that I can answer, I will answer in the next chapter. Please read and review! I'd love to hear any criticism.

EDIT: Guess who the "master" and the "butler" is! A special shoutout will be given to those who get it correct!

XOXO,

LegacyOfLight