Another insanely long chapter, but thank you for reading. The end of this chapter concludes Act 1.
Chapter 5
Xari waited until the house fell silent, the muffled footsteps of her family fading as they settled in for the night. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tucked the note into her pocket, its cryptic words echoing in her mind:
"The truth lies hidden in the shadows. We fight where they cannot see. Seek the cracks, and you'll find us."
She slipped out her window, her footsteps light against the stone rooftop. The weight of what she was about to do pressed on her shoulders, but she forced herself to keep moving. There was no turning back now.
The cool night air hit her face as she stepped outside, her breath visible in the faint glow of the moonlight. Minrathous was quieter at this hour, though the occasional clatter of distant voices and the flicker of torchlight reminded her that the city never truly slept. Pulling her cloak tighter around her, Xari set off, not exactly sure where she was headed.
As Xari moved through the quiet streets of Minrathous, her thoughts circled back to the note. She pulled it from her pocket again, running her fingers over the rough parchment. The words were maddeningly cryptic, and the more she tried to make sense of them, the more elusive their meaning seemed.
"Seek the cracks…" she murmured under her breath. Her mind sifted through places she'd seen, places she knew. Cracks could mean anything—hidden passages, forgotten alleys, or even the fractures in the Imperium's oppressive system.
She exhaled sharply and tucked the note back into her shawl. If anyone might know how to decipher it, it was Seralys.
The market was quiet at this late hour, most stalls closed and the streets empty save for the occasional guard on patrol. Seralys' tent, however, still glowed faintly with soft, flickering candlelight.
Xari hesitated outside the tent, her fingers brushing the edge of the note in her pocket. The mystic was known for his strange ways, but he'd always treated her kindly. Gathering her courage, she pulled back the fabric flap and stepped inside.
The air inside the tent was thick with the scent of herbs and smoke. Shelves lined the perimeter, cluttered with vials, dried plants, and odd trinkets. At the center of it all sat Seralys, hunched over a small table, carefully inscribing runes onto a strip of parchment.
He looked up as Xari entered, his sharp, emerald-green eyes meeting hers. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Xari Mercar," he said in his soft, lilting voice. "It's not often I see you here after dark. What brings you to my little corner of the world?"
"I need your help," she said, stepping closer. "With this."
She pulled out the note and placed it on the table. Seralys raised an eyebrow, his long fingers carefully lifting the parchment. He studied it in silence, his expression unreadable.
"Interesting," he murmured, his gaze flicking over the words. He turned the note over, his fingers brushing the faint imprint of the dragon emblem at the bottom. His eyes narrowed, bringing them to meet Xari's curious gaze.
"You know something," Xari pressed, her voice low but urgent.
Seralys kept his head down, but his eyes darted around the market, ensuring no eavesdroppers were near. He leaned in, beckoning for Xari to come closer with his finger. "The symbol of the dragon, coiled in shadow... it is a mark of resistance. A faction hidden beneath the surface of this city, moving unseen."
Xari's heart quickened. "This faction, Tarin spoke about it. They're real, aren't they?"
Seralys regarded her carefully, his expression suddenly serious. "They are. But finding them is one thing, Xari. If this note was given to you- if they intend for you to find them, well… They do not reveal themselves lightly."
Xari leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "I think they want me to find them. This note—it's a message, a test. What does it mean to 'seek the cracks'?"
Seralys tilted his head, a faint smile curving his lips. "The cracks... the places others dismiss. Forgotten alleys, hidden corners, spaces where the light doesn't reach." He paused, letting the words hang in the air before leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Tell me, Xari, where does no one go unless they have a reason?"
She blinked, the question tumbling through her thoughts. Her mind leaped to the city's underbelly, the places most avoided unless necessity forced them. "Dock Town," she whispered.
Seralys leaned back again, his faint smile deepening. "Perhaps."
Her pulse raced as she stared at him, the pieces beginning to fit together in her mind. "Thank you," she said, her voice quieter now but full of determination.
Seralys' gaze softened, though the intensity never left his eyes. "Be careful, Xari. The shadows may hold truths, but they also hide dangers. Not everyone who walks that path returns the same."
She nodded, tucking the note into her shawl. "I'll be careful," she promised before turning to leave.
As she stepped out into the cool night air, Seralys' words lingered in her mind. The shadows had begun to reveal their secrets, and she was ready to follow them, wherever they might lead.
The directions on the note were vague, but she pieced them together as she moved through the city's winding streets. She followed less traveled paths, slipping into alleys and navigating through the shadows as if the note itself was guiding her.
Her steps faltered when she reached the edge of Dock Town, the air heavy with the smell of saltwater and the faint acrid tang of fish. The district was alive even at night, with dockworkers hauling crates and merchants counting coin under the dim glow of lanterns. She could faintly hear music and laughter, the district's bar was a host for some of the city's rougher patrons. But she wasn't looking for a party.
"Seek the cracks..."
Xari scanned her surroundings, her eyes catching on an alley partially hidden between two crumbling buildings. It was narrow, dark, and uninviting—the kind of place no one would venture unless they had a reason. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The alley stretched on longer than she expected, its walls narrowing until she could barely walk without brushing against the damp stone. At the far end, she found a rusted metal grate set into the ground.
It didn't look like much, but as Xari knelt beside it, she noticed faint markings etched into the stone—a series of lines and curves that, when traced with her finger, formed the outline of a dragon. Quickly, with trembling hands, she reached into her cloak and pulled out the folded note. Under the minimal light of the alley, she squinted until her eyes adjusted onto the dragon stamped on the bottom of the page. It was identical to the one etched into the stone.
Her heart raced. This had to be it.
With a deep breath, she pressed her palm against the dragon's head, and the grate shifted with a low groan, revealing a hidden staircase spiraling downward into darkness.
This is it, she thought. Her stomach churned with equal parts fear and determination as she descended, the heavy grate sliding back into place above her.
The stairs opened into a wide underground chamber, dimly lit by flickering torches mounted on the walls. Ahead of her, figures moved in the shadows, their faces obscured by the absence of light.
Before Xari could take another step, a voice rang out. "Stop right there."
She froze as two figures emerged from the shadows, their movements swift and deliberate. One was tall and imposing, with a jagged scar running down the side of his face. The other was smaller, their voice sharp and commanding. They both bore similar armor, sleek and menacing: black robes layered with dark steel plates engraved with dragon motifs, spiked pauldrons, and segmented bracers. A tattered black cloak bore their crimson dragon emblem, while an angular helm with a dragon-like visor added an air of mystery. The perfect symbols of stealth and power.
"How did you find this place?" the smaller figure demanded, stepping closer.
Xari hesitated, her hand moving instinctively to the note in her pocket. Slowly, she pulled it out and held it up. "I was given this," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "I was told to seek the cracks."
The two figures exchanged a glance before the smaller one snatched the note from her hand. They read it quickly, their posture stiffening.
"You're the one," the shorter murmured, almost to themselves. Then, louder: "Follow me."
Xari hesitated, glancing at the larger figure, who hadn't moved. Their imposing stance made it clear that any wrong move would be her last.
Swallowing hard, she followed the smaller figure deeper into the chamber. The air grew cooler, the flickering torches casting eerie shadows on the walls. Finally, they stopped in front of a large circular table surrounded by more strangers. They were seated, watching Xari enter the room as if they had been expecting her. All of them bore armor like the men that she met in the tunnel.
At the head of the table stood a woman with piercing eyes and an air of authority. Her armor, unlike the others, was draped with a light blue cloak trimmed with gray fur, indicating her authority. She studied Xari for a long moment before speaking.
"So," the man said, her voice low and commanding. "You've found us."
Xari's fingers curled into fists at her sides, steadying herself under the weight of the man's gaze. The flickering light of the torches cast shadows across his golden-edged mask, making him appear almost otherworldly.
"I have," she replied, her voice steady despite the hammering of her heart. "I followed the message."
The woman tilted her head slightly, as if assessing every word she spoke. "And yet, many have followed messages like this and turned back. Why didn't you?"
Xari hesitated, her thoughts racing. The truth burned on the tip of her tongue, but she chose her words carefully. "I have questions. I was… hoping to find some answers here."
There was a brief silence, but it weighed on her shoulders like a boulder. Finally, she spoke, cutting through the space between them like a knife. "Ask away."
Even though Xari had been upfront about why she was there, she realized she had not fully thought through what to do next. All she had to do was ask the questions that burned in her mind- but then what? She was not sure if she was ready to receive answers.
Xari swallowed hard, her gaze shifting between the woman and the figures behind her. The flickering torches cast long shadows across the room, adding to the suffocating weight of the moment.
"I..." Her voice wavered and forced herself to steady. "Who are you? What is the 'underground faction'? And why... why me?"
The woman's piercing eyes studied her, as if weighing her very soul. "We are the cracks in the Imperium's foundation," she said, her voice low but steady. "We fight from the shadows to weaken their hold. We are resistance, rebellion, and retribution for those the Imperium would crush." She stepped closer, her imposing presence making Xari's chest tighten. "As for why you? You are here because the shadows whispered your name. Because you were brave—or foolish—enough to defy the instability of the system. But only you can decide if you belong."
Xari bit her lip, her thoughts spiraling. "What matters now is that you're here. So, I'll ask you this: what is it you truly seek?"
Her heart pounded in her chest. The question echoed in her mind, cutting through the haze of doubt. What was she seeking? Answers about her past? A way to fight back against the Imperium? A place where she truly belonged?
"I want to know the truth," Xari said finally, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her. "About the Imperium, about this... resistance. And about me."
The woman inclined her head, as though her response had been inevitable. "The truth," she said, her tone quiet yet heavy with meaning. "A dangerous thing to seek in a world built on lies."
Her piercing gaze held hers for a long, tense moment before she stepped back, gesturing to the figures around the table. "You say you seek the truth," she continued, her voice calm but edged with gravity. "But truth is not given—it is earned. If you wish to know who we are, why we fight, and the truth about yourself, you must first prove you are worthy to stand among us."
Xari straightened, her hands clenched at her sides. Her resolve wavered, just for a moment, before she asked, "What do I need to do?"
A faint curve touched the woman's lips beneath, though her expression remained otherwise unreadable. "You must pass a test. It will reveal not just your strength, but your loyalty, your ingenuity, and your resolve. But understand this—there are no second chances. If you fail, you will not find your way back to us. If you succeed, you will no longer be Xari Mercar, the daughter of a commander. Your life, as you know it, will be changed forever."
Xari's chest tightened at his words. Her mind raced, questions tumbling over one another, but one struck louder than the rest: How does she know who I am?
Her voice broke through the silence, tinged with disbelief. "How do you know my name? How did—"
The cloaked woman raised a hand, cutting her off, and gestured toward the smaller figure who had led her into the chamber. "Take this time to consider your choice. This is not a path to tread lightly. Return only if you are ready to commit fully to what lies ahead."
The weight of those words pressed on her like iron shackles, but the revelation that they knew her identity hit harder. They knew who she was—her name, her family. How much else did they know? Did they know about Erynd, about Livia? Her brother? Had they been watching her for years? The thought sent a chill racing down her spine.
And if she said yes—if she chose to join them—what would that mean for her family? For the life she'd lived until now? Xari had never felt fully at home in the Mercar household, but leaving them entirely? Discarding the only life she'd ever known? That was a step she wasn't sure she could take.
But she'd seen the truth of what the Imperium was—its cruelty, its corruption. Xari's chest ached, her emotions a knot of fear, doubt, and anger. She couldn't deny the part of her that wanted this—to tear away the veil of lies, to fight for something greater. But at what cost?
"I'll think about it," she said finally, her voice steady despite the chaos within her.
The woman nodded once, expression unreadable. "Good. When you are ready, the shadows will be waiting."
The smaller figure motioned for Xari to follow, leading her back toward the entrance. As she ascended the spiral staircase, the grate slid shut behind her, the sound reverberating in her chest like a final warning.
The cool night air hit her face, grounding her as she stepped out into the narrow alley. She stood there for a long moment, clutching the folded note in her hand, her thoughts churning.
They knew who she was. Joining them would mean more than stepping into the shadows—it would mean leaving her family behind, possibly forever.
She closed her eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. Was she ready to sever those ties? To walk away from Erynd, from Livia, from Theron and Kaelon?
The invitation lingered in her mind, a heavy, unrelenting question: Am I ready to step into the shadows and leave everything else behind?
A sharp knock on her door startled Xari awake. Her eyes shot open, the remnants of last night's thoughts still swirling in her mind. For a moment, she stayed still, the note tucked under her pillow burning like a secret weight she couldn't escape.
"Xari." Her father's voice, firm and commanding, came from the other side of the door. "Get up. You need to eat and be ready in ten minutes."
She groaned softly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Ready for what?" she called back, her voice thick with exhaustion.
Erynd didn't answer right away, but when he spoke again, his tone brooked no argument. "You're coming with me. We're meeting an official across town, and it's time you start learning about politics. Be downstairs quickly."
Footsteps retreated down the hall, leaving Xari sitting in the early morning silence. Her thoughts drifted immediately to the events of the night before—the cryptic message, the masked figures, the weight of the decision looming over her. She had spent hours turning the note over in her hands, replaying every word the man had said, every warning he'd given.
"You will no longer simply be Xari Mercar, the daughter of a commander. Your life, as you know it, will be changed forever."
Xari let out a shaky breath, pushing herself out of bed. Her body moved automatically, her mind still half-anchored in the mysterious tunnel. Dressing quickly, she tucked the note deeper under her pillow, as if hiding it there would somehow lessen the weight of what it meant.
Downstairs, Erynd was already at the table, a plate of bread and fruit set in front of him. He glanced up as she entered, his expression unreadable.
"Eat," he ordered simply. "You'll need your energy."
Xari nodded and took her seat, barely tasting the bread she tore into. The quiet between them was suffocating, her father's calm demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil inside her.
As they finished, Erynd stood, placing his hands on the table as he looked down at her. "We'll be crossing the city, so keep close. And listen carefully when we meet the official. Politics isn't just about laws and agreements—it's about power and knowing where you stand. You'd do well to start paying attention."
Xari nodded mutely, biting back a retort. Erynd had always been like this—direct, controlled, and unyielding. Normally, his lectures would barely register, but today, they grated on her nerves. After what she'd seen last night, his words about power rang hollow, even hypocritical.
As they stepped outside, the sunlight hit her face, but it brought no warmth. The streets of Minrathous were already bustling, the air heavy with the scent of salt and smoke. Erynd's stride was brisk, and Xari had to quicken her pace to keep up, her thoughts still tethered to the shadows of the night before.
"The truth lies hidden in the shadows."
Her gaze drifted to the bustling market stalls, the weary faces of laborers, and the watchful eyes of guards patrolling the streets. How much truth had been hidden from her all this time?
She took notice of the heaviness in the air. Stall operators and patrons kept their voices to a minimum, their tones were hurried and abrupt. The faces of those around her were masked in an emotion Xari couldn't pinpoint- it almost appeared as fear or dread. It was a harsh comparison to the usual hubbub that flowed through the streets.
Erynd glanced back at her, his voice cutting through her thoughts. "Focus, Xari. You'll be expected to observe, not speak, but that doesn't mean you can't learn."
She nodded again, forcing herself to push the shadows aside for now. Whatever this meeting was about, it wouldn't wait for her to sort through her thoughts.
The streets grew quieter as they moved farther from the bustling markets and deeper into the heart of Minrathous. Where was everyone? The towering buildings cast long shadows across the cobblestones, and the air felt heavier, almost oppressive. Xari followed Erynd closely, her gaze flicking between the hurried strides of the few passersby and the stern determination on her father's face.
Ahead, a low murmur of voices began to rise, carrying on the breeze like distant thunder. Erynd slowed, his posture stiffening as he surveyed the street.
"Stay close," he said, his voice sharp.
As they turned a corner, the source of the noise became clear. A large crowd had gathered at the edge of the square, their voices loud and angry. Xari's heart sank as she saw the familiar faces of elven workers and slaves among them, their eyes burning with defiance.
"What's happening?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the growing commotion.
"A riot," Erynd said flatly. His hand gripped her shoulder, holding her in place as he assessed the situation. "The guards will handle it."
Xari's stomach twisted at his words. The guards stood in a rigid line at the other end of the square, shields raised and weapons drawn. The tension was palpable, the air thick with unspoken violence waiting to erupt.
"Why don't they just listen to them?" she asked, the question slipping out before she could stop herself.
Erynd's expression darkened, and he turned to look at her. "This isn't about listening, Xari. It's about control. The moment you give them an inch, they'll take everything. You need to see this—to understand what happens when order is challenged."
Her throat tightened, anger bubbling beneath the surface, but she bit her tongue.
A sudden movement caught her eye—a familiar figure weaving through the crowd. Her heart leapt as she recognized Aurelia, her friend's face set with determination.
"Aurelia..." Xari whispered, panic creeping into her voice. She took a step forward, but Erynd's grip tightened.
"Stay here," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"She's in there," Xari protested, trying to pull free.
"She made her choice," Erynd said coldly. "Now she'll face the consequences."
Before Xari could respond, a loud shout erupted from the crowd, followed by the clash of metal against stone. The riot exploded into chaos.
The guards pushed forward, their shields slamming into the front line of protesters. Elven workers screamed and scattered, but some fought back, hurling stones and makeshift weapons. The square became a storm of movement, shouts, and the sickening sound of blows landing.
Xari's heart raced as she spotted Aurelia again, caught in the thick of it. Her friend's face twisted with fear and determination as she pushed back against the guards.
"I have to help her!" Xari shouted, but Erynd held her firmly.
"You'll do nothing," he snapped. "Watch, Xari. This is what rebellion looks like."
Before she could argue further, the world around them seemed to hold its breath. A single, chilling sound—a high-pitched whine—cut through the chaos.
Then the explosion hit.
The blast came from the center of the crowd, a flash of fire and light that tore through the square. The force of it knocked Xari backward, her ears ringing as screams filled the air.
When she scrambled to her feet, her vision blurred by smoke, she saw the devastation. Bodies lay scattered across the square, the fire still licking at the edges of the carnage.
And there, among the fallen, was Aurelia.
Xari froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her friend's lifeless body lay crumpled on the ground, her hand outstretched as if reaching for something she would never grasp.
Her knees buckled, but Erynd's voice snapped her back. "This is why order must be maintained," he said, his tone devoid of emotion. "This is the price of rebellion."
Xari turned to look at him, disbelief and fury mingling in her gaze. The man who had raised her, who had taught her discipline and strength, now stood like a statue, unmoved by the carnage before them.
Her fists clenched at her sides as hot tears burned her cheeks. In that moment, something inside her broke.
Xari's vision blurred with tears as the shock gave way to rage, burning and unrelenting. She turned to Erynd, her chest heaving, her fists trembling at her sides.
"You lied to me!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "You told me this was about order, about protecting people—but you just stood there and let her die!"
She didn't wait for his response. Her fists pounded against his chest, each strike fueled by her fury and grief. "You didn't even try to stop it! You didn't do anything!"
Erynd didn't flinch. His broad frame was unyielding, as steady as a stone wall against her blows. His face, so often stern and unreadable, flickered for just an instant—an almost imperceptible flash of sadness in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cold, emotionless mask she had come to know so well.
"I did what needed to be done," he said, his voice low and steady. "That's what leadership demands."
Xari froze, her fists hovering mid-air as his words sliced through her. Her tears fell freely now, her voice trembling with fury. "Leadership? You call this leadership? Watching people die—watching her die?!"
Erynd's jaw tightened, his expression hardening even further. "This is the cost of rebellion, Xari. You think fighting back brings change? It brings chaos. It brings death. And you would do well to remember that."
His words struck like a physical blow, leaving her gasping for breath. Her hands fell to her sides, limp, as she stared at him in disbelief.
"She wasn't a rebel," Xari whispered, her voice breaking. "She was braver than you'll ever be. And you let them kill her."
For a moment, something flickered across Erynd's face—a crack in his impenetrable armor. Regret? Pain? It was gone so quickly that Xari couldn't be sure.
"Bravery without purpose is a death sentence," he said, his voice sharp but measured. "She made her choice, Xari, just like you'll have to make yours one day. You don't have the luxury of blind idealism. Not if you want to survive."
Xari stumbled back, shaking her head. "You're a monster," she spat, her voice trembling with raw emotion.
Erynd didn't respond. He only stood there, silent and unyielding, as Xari turned and ran.
Her feet pounded against the cobblestones as she ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The streets of Minrathous blurred around her, the faces of the few passersby unrecognizable in her haze of fury and grief. Her father's words echoed in her mind, each one twisting the knife that had already been lodged in her chest.
"Caring doesn't win wars."
"She made her choice."
"Strength does."
She clenched her fists as fresh tears streaked down her face, her anger surging with every step. Strength wasn't letting people die. It wasn't standing by and doing nothing. Strength was what Aurelia had shown—standing up, even when the odds were impossible.
She didn't know how long she ran, only that her body moved with a singular purpose. When she finally stopped, she was back in Dock Town, the shadows of the narrow alleys enveloping her. She stood before the same alleyway from the night before, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. The grate at the end seemed alive, waiting.
This time, she didn't hesitate. Dropping to her knees, she pressed her palm against the etched dragon's head. The grate groaned and shifted, revealing a hidden staircase.
Descending into the darkness, Xari felt the weight of the world above her lift. Her pulse quickened as she reached the bottom and stepped into the flickering torchlight of the underground lair.
Armored figures turned toward her, their eyes glinting in the dim light. The heavy silence pressed around her, and Xari forced herself to stand tall, even as her heart thundered.
The woman with the fur-trimmed armor from the night before emerged from the shadows, her piercing gaze locking onto Xari. "You've returned," she said, her voice calm but edged with curiosity. "Have you made your decision?"
Xari's fists tightened at her sides. "I have," she said firmly. "I want to join you. I'll take your test—whatever it is."
The woman studied her for a long moment before stepping closer, her voice low and deliberate. "To join us is to abandon the life you know. To sever ties with the Imperium and all it stands for. Once you take this path, there is no turning back. Do you understand?"
"I understand," Xari said, her voice steady.
"And are you willing to leave behind those who will never understand your choice? Your family, your friends, your name?"
Xari's throat tightened, but the image of Aurelia's lifeless body flashed in her mind, solidifying her resolve. She lifted her chin. "Yes."
The woman stopped inches from her, leaning in slightly. "This is not a decision to make lightly. Failure means death. Betrayal means worse. Knowing that, do you still choose this path?"
Xari's heart pounded, but she didn't falter. "I choose this path."
A faint hint of approval crossed the woman's face. "Very well. Your test begins now." She gestured to one of the armored figures, who stepped forward to guide Xari deeper into the lair. "I suppose I should formally introduce myself now- I am Maevaris. Welcome to the shadows, Xari. Let us see if you truly belong here."
As they led her away, Xari glanced back at the woman one last time. Her golden-edged armor glinted in the torchlight, a silent reminder of the weight of the choice she had made.
Xari tightened her grip on the note as she disappeared into the shadows. For the first time, the storm inside her quieted. She didn't know what the test would bring, but one thing was certain.
This was where she was meant to be.
The armored figure guided Xari through the twisting corridors of the headquarters. The stone walls were damp, their surfaces jagged and uneven, lit by torches flickering in iron sconces. The air was cool and carried a faint metallic tang, as though the very space pulsed with the life of the rebellion it housed.
They passed rooms carved into the stone, each one revealing glimpses of their operations. One chamber housed maps sprawled across a massive table, dotted with markers and notes. Another bustled with figures sharpening blades, fletching arrows, and repairing armor. A quiet hum of discipline and focus filled the space—no chatter, no wasted movements.
Deeper still, the corridors widened, opening into a cavernous hall. The ceiling loomed high above, disappearing into darkness, while rows of banners lined the walls, each bearing the crimson dragon emblem. The center of the hall was dominated by a circular stone dais, its surface etched with intricate runes that glowed faintly.
"This is where your test begins," the armored figure said, their voice calm and measured. They gestured for Xari to step onto the dais.
She hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking over the runes, but then squared her shoulders and stepped forward. The stone was cold beneath her boots, and the faint hum of magic seemed to resonate through her feet.
Maevaris emerged again from the shadows, her golden-edged armor glinting in the torchlight. She approached the dais, her steps deliberate, her gaze fixed on Xari.
"Your test is simple in concept but not in execution," she said, her tone sharp and precise. "It is designed to strip you down to your core, to reveal whether you have the strength, the will, and the resourcefulness to stand among us. You will face a trial unique to you, shaped by your fears, your weaknesses, and your past."
Xari's heart pounded, but she met the woman's gaze, refusing to look away. "What do I have to do?"
Maevaris gestured to the glowing runes beneath Xari's feet. "This dais is a doorway. It will take you to a space forged by our mages, one that will test you in ways no blade or battlefield ever could. You will face illusions, but the pain and consequences will feel real. You may be required to fight, to solve, or to endure. There is no way to know until you begin."
Xari swallowed hard, her throat dry. "And what happens if I fail?"
Her eyes narrowed, her voice soft but unyielding. "If you fail, you will not die, but you will be cast out. The door to this place will forever be closed to you. The shadows do not welcome weakness."
Xari clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. She couldn't let that happen. Not after everything she had seen. Not after what she had promised herself.
"And if I succeed?" she asked, her voice steady.
The cloaked woman allowed a faint smile to touch her lips. "If you succeed, you will be one of us. A Shadow Dragon. And you will learn truths about this world that most could never imagine."
She stepped back, gesturing to the armored figure who had led Xari. "They will oversee your initiation. Once you step into the dais, there is no turning back."
Xari took a deep breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. Shadow Dragons. Her hand brushed the note still tucked into her belt, and she thought of Aurelia's face, of her father's cold words, of the explosion that had shattered her world.
"I'm ready," she said firmly, stepping to the center of the dais.
The runes beneath her feet flared, the glow intensifying until it enveloped her completely. The air seemed to hum with energy, and then, with a rush of wind, the cavern vanished.
Xari's stomach lurched as the world shifted around her. One moment, she was standing on the glowing dais, and the next, she was surrounded by darkness so complete it felt like a physical weight. The air was still, silent, and cold enough to sting her skin.
She took a cautious step forward, her boots echoing on a surface she couldn't see. As her foot landed, a faint ripple of light spread outward, illuminating the ground beneath her—a smooth, reflective black surface, like polished obsidian.
A voice rang out, low and disembodied, reverberating through the void. It wasn't the fur-trimmed woman's voice, nor the armored figure's, but something deep and resonant, layered with power.
"To move forward, you must face what you hide."
Xari's pulse quickened as the rippling light spread further, revealing her surroundings. The void gave way to a new scene—a battlefield littered with scorched earth and broken weapons. Smoke hung heavy in the air, and the faint cries of the wounded echoed in the distance.
She knew this place.
Her knees nearly buckled as recognition hit her like a blow. It was the battlefield where Erynd had found her as a baby. The burned tabard, the strange emblem—this was where it all began.
But the battlefield wasn't empty. Figures emerged from the smoke, their shapes flickering like shadows cast by an unseen flame. They surrounded her, their movements eerily slow and deliberate.
"Who are you?" Xari demanded, her voice shaking despite her efforts to sound firm.
The shadows didn't answer. Instead, they began to take form, their shapes solidifying into something far worse than faceless entities.
They became people she knew.
Her father, Erynd, stood at the front, his expression cold and unyielding. Behind him were Aurelia, her face pale and lifeless, and Livia, her mother, who looked at Xari with sorrow-filled eyes. Among them were the Shadow Dragons she had just met, their masked faces turned toward her like silent judges.
Her breath hitched as the voice rang out again:
"To prove yourself, you must confront your greatest fears. Show us who you truly are."
The figures moved, slowly at first, then with sudden, terrifying swiftness. Erynd raised his hand, and Aurelia fell to the ground, lifeless once more. Livia turned away, disappearing into the smoke. The Shadow Dragons faded, leaving her alone with the version of her father she feared most.
"You are weak, Xari," Erynd's voice said, cutting through the haze. His expression was cold, devoid of any trace of the man who had raised her. "You let emotions cloud your judgment. You'll never survive in this world."
"I'm not weak!" she shouted, her voice cracking as she stepped toward him.
"Prove it," the voice said, echoing from every direction.
Suddenly, Erynd drew his sword, the steel glinting unnaturally in the dim light. Without hesitation, he lunged at her.
Xari barely had time to react. She dove to the side, the blade slicing through the air where she had just stood. Scrambling to her feet, she drew her dagger, her hands trembling as she faced him.
"It's not real," she whispered to herself. "It's not real."
But the sting of the wind as his blade swung past her again told her otherwise. Whatever this was, it felt real enough to kill.
Erynd attacked again, his strikes relentless, each one forcing her farther back. "You hesitate," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "That's why you'll fail."
His next blow knocked the dagger from her hand, sending her sprawling to the ground. She looked up, breathing hard, as the blade hovered inches from her throat.
Her mind raced. The voice had said this was about proving who she was—confronting her fears. She couldn't beat him with brute strength.
Xari closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe through the fear. When she opened them again, her gaze locked on his.
"You're wrong," she said, her voice low but steady.
With a sudden burst of strength, she twisted to the side, grabbing her dagger from the ground. As Erynd raised his sword for another strike, she lunged—not at him, but at the smoke surrounding him. The blade pierced the illusion, and the figure shattered like glass, fragments dissolving into the void.
The battlefield vanished.
Xari fell to her knees, her chest heaving as the voice echoed once more:
"You have faced the first truth: that strength is not always in the blade, but in the mind. Rise, Xari, for your trial is not yet complete."
The ground beneath her shifted again, and the darkness swallowed her whole.
The darkness around her felt heavier now, pressing against her chest like an invisible weight. Xari pushed herself to her feet, her breathing shallow as she tried to steady her thoughts. The voice had said her trial wasn't over. She gripped her dagger tightly, the only tangible thing in this shifting void, and braced herself.
The silence was broken by a faint hissing, low and sinister, echoing from somewhere she couldn't pinpoint. Xari turned, scanning the darkness, but saw nothing.
The hissing grew louder, sharper, until it became a chorus of whispers, layering over one another in an unintelligible symphony of menace. Her pulse quickened as a faint red glow appeared in the distance, illuminating the coiled forms of serpents slithering toward her.
Xari's breath caught. She recognized them immediately.
These were the serpents from her vision—the dragon and snake that had haunted her dreams, their red scales glinting like bloodied steel, their eyes burning with an unnatural light.
The dragon reared its head, its body stretching impossibly high into the void. Its massive eyes locked onto her, glowing with malice and intelligence.
"Kaelira," it hissed, its voice a chilling blend of many. "You cannot run from us. You cannot deny what you are."
Xari stepped back, her heart pounding as the serpent lunged. She rolled to the side, barely avoiding the strike, and scrambled to her feet. "Stay away!" she shouted, her voice cracking.
The snake beside the dragon laughed—a sound that made her skin crawl. "You fear us because you fear yourself. You cannot fight what is in your blood."
The two serpents began to close in, their bodies writhing and coiling around her in an ever-tightening circle. From the snake emerged more serpents, multiplying endlessly around her. Xari swung her dagger at the nearest one, but it passed through the serpent as though it were made of smoke.
"This isn't real," she told herself, gripping the dagger tighter. "It's just another illusion."
But the serpents' hissing whispers filled her ears, drowning out her thoughts. Her body froze as the dragon's head loomed above her, its forked tongue flicking dangerously close.
"Kaelira," it said again, its voice dripping with malice. "You cannot hide from the truth. You are ours."
Xari's vision blurred as the serpent's words dug into her mind, awakening the same fear that had paralyzed her during her visions. She couldn't move, couldn't think, as the serpent's eyes bore into hers.
But then, a flicker of memory surfaced—Aurelia's defiant face, her friend standing tall against impossible odds.
"Fear doesn't define me," Xari whispered, her voice trembling. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to meet the serpent's gaze.
The serpent recoiled slightly, as if sensing her resolve. The hissing grew into a rumbling growl, angrier, and the circle of serpents tightened further.
Xari closed her eyes, her mind racing. The dagger wouldn't work—she'd already seen that. But if these creatures were born of her visions, they were tied to her mind. To her choices.
Her eyes snapped open, blazing with determination. "I'm not yours," she said firmly, her voice cutting through the cacophony. "I'll never be yours."
The largest serpent lunged again, but this time, Xari didn't run. Instead, she dropped the dagger and stepped forward, reaching out with her bare hands. As her fingers brushed its head, the serpent dissolved into smoke, its hissing turning into a shriek before vanishing entirely.
The remaining serpents writhed and screeched as they, too, began to dissipate, one by one. The red glow dimmed, and the void returned to silence.
The voice spoke again, its tone heavier now. "You have faced the second truth: fear binds only those who allow it. You are stronger than your chains."
The ground beneath her shifted once more, and Xari felt herself falling into darkness again.
The fall seemed endless, the darkness swallowing Xari whole. Her body felt weightless, suspended in the void, until her feet abruptly touched solid ground. The impact sent a jolt through her legs, and she staggered forward, catching herself with trembling hands.
When she looked up, the world around her had transformed again. She was standing in a grand hall, its towering walls lined with ornate columns carved in the likeness of dragons. Light poured in from massive, stained-glass windows, each depicting scenes of war, betrayal, and sacrifice.
At the far end of the hall stood a throne, and seated upon it was a woman cloaked in shadow. Her presence was commanding, almost suffocating, and though her features were obscured, Xari could feel her piercing gaze.
"You've come far," the woman said, her voice echoing like a chorus. "But to pass this trial, you must face the greatest truth of all—one you have always known but refused to accept."
The woman raised a hand, and the light in the hall dimmed. Shadows writhed around her, and from them emerged a figure Xari recognized instantly.
It was herself.
The other Xari stepped forward, her movements fluid and deliberate. She was identical in every way, except for her eyes, which glowed an unnatural red.
"This is who you fear to become," the woman on the throne said. "A reflection of the truth you hide. Your blood, your power, your destiny. To deny it is to deny yourself."
The other Xari drew a blade—long, blackened steel etched with the same dragon emblem that adorned the Shadow Dragons' banners. She raised it, pointing it directly at Xari.
"You've always run from the truth," the reflection said, her voice cold and biting. "But you can't run anymore. You must decide who you are. Will you fight for control—or will you let me take it?"
Xari's heart pounded as the reflection lunged at her. She barely had time to react, diving to the side as the blade slashed through the air. Scrambling to her feet, she drew her own dagger, but her grip faltered.
"You can't win," the reflection taunted, circling her. "You're afraid of what you are. Weak. Indecisive. A shadow pretending to be strong."
Xari gritted her teeth, forcing herself to steady her trembling hands. "You're not me," she said, her voice low but defiant.
The reflection laughed. "Aren't I? Every doubt you've ever had, every time you've hesitated, every failure—it's all because of me. Because I am you."
The reflection attacked again, their blades clashing in a flurry of sparks. Xari struggled to keep up, each strike pushing her back. She couldn't match the reflection's speed or strength—it was as if every weakness she'd ever feared was magnified in this version of herself.
Her back hit a column, and the reflection pressed the blade to her throat. "You'll never be free of me," it hissed. "I'll always be here, waiting for the moment you falter."
Xari's breathing was ragged, her mind racing. She couldn't overpower the reflection—it was too strong, too relentless. But then she remembered the voice's words: Face the greatest truth of all.
This wasn't about fighting. It was about acceptance.
"You're right," Xari said, her voice trembling but steadying with each word. "You are a part of me. My fear, my anger, my doubts—they're all mine. But they don't define me. I do."
The reflection's grip faltered, and Xari seized the moment. She pushed the blade aside, stepping forward instead of away. Reaching out, she grabbed the reflection's hand, holding it firmly.
"I'm not running anymore," Xari said. "You're not my enemy. You're my shadow. And I'll learn to live with you."
The reflection's red eyes widened, and the blade dissolved in her hand. The shadows surrounding her body began to unravel, piece by piece, until she was gone, leaving Xari standing alone.
The woman on the throne rose, her shadowy form dissipating to reveal Maevaris, her golden-edged armor gleaming in the light. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a faint glimmer of approval in her eyes.
"You have faced your truth," Maevaris said, her voice steady. "You have confronted your fears, your doubts, and the part of yourself you sought to deny. And you have prevailed."
The hall began to fade, the grand columns and stained glass dissolving into light.
Xari found herself back on the dais in the Shadow Dragons' lair, her legs trembling but her resolve stronger than ever. The gathered figures watched her in silence, their masked faces unreadable.
Maevaris stepped forward, standing over Xari as she knelt on the dais. "You have passed the trial," she said, her voice carrying through the hall. "Rise, Xari, as one of the Shadow Dragons."
Xari stood, her heart steady for the first time in days. The weight of her fears no longer held her down. She had made her choice, and there was no turning back.
Maevaris stepped into Xari's makeshift quarters, her presence as commanding as ever. The room was dim, lit only by a flickering lantern hanging from the low ceiling. After her trial, Xari had been given food, water, and a small corner to rest—a pile of sacks stuffed with hay that served as a crude bed. She sat on them now, still replaying the events of the trial in her mind, her body aching but her resolve unshaken.
Maevaris crossed her arms, her golden-edged armor gleaming faintly in the lantern light. "Use the cover of night to return to your home and gather your things. You must not let anyone see you, lest you lead them back to us."
Xari nodded, the task was something she was adept at by now. Only this time, she had a feeling her family would be wondering where she was, and may still be awake.
"To ensure this," Maevaris continued, stepping aside, "Ashur will be escorting you."
The shadows behind Maevaris shifted, and a figure emerged—a familiar one. A mischievous grin stretched across his face, his hands clasped casually behind his back.
"Tarin?" Xari's voice broke the heavy silence, her eyes widening in disbelief.
"Xari," Tarin replied, drawing out her name with mock formality as he gave her an exaggerated bow. "Or should I say recruit Xari now? Quite the title you've earned."
She stood, her confusion giving way to a mix of annoyance and relief. "You're... part of this?"
"Of course," he said, straightening and throwing her a lopsided grin. "Who do you think left you that note? Someone had to nudge you in the right direction."
Xari blinked, the pieces falling into place. "That was you?"
"Guilty as charged," Tarin said, his tone light, though his eyes glinted with something sharper. "Figured you needed a little push to find where you belong. And it looks like it worked."
Xari crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. "You could've just told me instead of playing games."
"And ruin the mystery?" Tarin smirked. "Not my style."
Maevaris cleared her throat, her tone curt. "This isn't the time for banter. Ashur, your job is to ensure Xari retrieves what she needs without incident. Nothing more."
Tarin's grin faded slightly, and he gave Maevaris a mock salute. "Understood, Commander."
Maevaris turned her attention back to Xari, her gaze sharp. "Be swift, be silent, and remember—if anyone sees you, you jeopardize not just yourself but everyone here."
"I understand," Xari said firmly.
Maevaris gave a curt nod before stepping out, leaving Xari alone with Tarin. Or is it Ashur now?
For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the faint flicker of the lantern. Then Tarin broke the silence with a sigh. "You know, I was hoping we'd have a little reunion under better circumstances. Maybe over drinks. But sneaking into your family's home? Classic."
Xari shook her head, grabbing her cloak and pulling it over her shoulders. "This isn't a joke, Tarin."
"Who's joking?" he said, flashing another grin as he leaned against the wall. "Don't worry, Xari. You're in good hands."
She hesitated for a moment, studying him. The carefree attitude, the jokes—it was typical Tarin. But there was something beneath it now, something heavier that he wasn't showing.
"Let's just get this done," Xari said, her voice quieter as she moved toward the door.
Tarin straightened and followed her out into the corridor. The lair was quiet, most of the Shadow Dragons resting or preparing for their own missions. The air felt heavier than before, the weight of the oath she had taken pressing down on her.
As they emerged into the cool night air, Tarin's grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "Ready?" he asked.
Xari nodded, her jaw tightening. "Let's go."
The streets of Minrathous were quiet at this hour, the air cool and heavy with the faint smell of the sea. Xari and Tarin moved through the shadows, their steps light and deliberate. Tarin led the way, his movements fluid and practiced, while Xari followed closely, her senses on high alert.
They ducked into an alley, slipping behind a stack of crates as a pair of patrolling guards passed nearby. Once the guards were out of earshot, Xari glanced at Tarin, her curiosity finally breaking through the silence.
"Why Ashur?" she asked in a low voice.
Tarin glanced back at her, his grin reappearing briefly. "What, you don't think it suits me?"
"I think it sounds... serious," she said, her voice laced with skepticism. "Which isn't exactly your style."
Tarin feigned a look of mock offense, clutching his chest. "I'll have you know that Ashur is an excellent name. Mysterious, strong—it fits me perfectly."
Xari rolled her eyes. "That doesn't answer the question."
His grin faded slightly as he turned back to the path ahead. For a moment, he was quiet, his tone more subdued when he finally spoke. "Ashur was my brother's name."
Xari blinked, caught off guard. "Your brother?"
"Yeah," he said, his voice softer now. "He died a few years ago. Wasn't anything noble or dramatic—just a stupid accident in the lower docks. But he always believed in standing up for people who couldn't fight for themselves." Tarin's steps slowed as he glanced back at her. "So, when I joined the Shadow Dragons, I figured I'd honor him. Take his name. Feels like he's still here, in a way."
Xari stared at him, unsure what to say. She had never known this side of Tarin—beneath the jokes and bravado was someone who carried more weight than he let on.
"That's... really noble," she said finally, her voice quieter.
"Don't go making a big deal out of it," he said, flashing a smaller, softer grin. "I still like to think of myself as the fun one."
They reached another turn, ducking into a narrow alley that opened onto the street leading to the Mercar estate. The towering gates of her family's home loomed ahead, shrouded in shadows. Xari's chest tightened as the familiar sight stirred a flood of emotions—doubt, regret, determination.
Tarin crouched beside her behind a low stone wall, his gaze sweeping the area. "Alright, we're clear for now. Stick to the plan—quick, quiet, and no goodbyes."
Xari nodded, her hands gripping the edge of the wall as she prepared to move. But before she did, she looked at Tarin again.
"Thanks, Tarin. Or... Ashur."
He raised an eyebrow, his grin returning. "Either works. But let's save the thank-yous for after we get out of here, yeah?"
Xari managed a small smile before slipping over the wall, the weight of the night pressing on her as she moved toward the estate she was about to leave behind.
Xari moved swiftly, her feet barely making a sound as she climbed the trellis beneath her bedroom window. The familiar creak of the wooden frame made her pause, her breath catching as she waited to hear if anyone inside stirred. When no sound came, she eased the window open and slipped inside, her heart pounding.
The room was as she had left it—neatly kept, with her few personal belongings tucked away in their usual places. It felt smaller now, almost stifling, as though the walls were pressing in on her. She crossed to the corner where a simple satchel lay folded and began filling it with what she needed: sturdy clothes, a small dagger Erynd had given her years ago, and the pendant Aurelia had gifted her on her last birthday.
Her hands lingered on the pendant for a moment, her chest tightening as she remembered Aurelia's laugh, her easy smile. Xari swallowed hard and slipped it into the satchel.
Next, she kneeled next to her bed, lifting up the loose floorboard and retrieving the leather-bound box. She opened it slightly, only to ensure the burned tabard was still inside. She stuffed the box into her satchel.
As she moved to her desk, she caught sight of a piece of parchment and a quill. Her hand hovered over them, and for a moment, she hesitated. Should she leave a note? A part of her wanted to explain, to tell her family why she was leaving, but another part warned her against it.
Her fingers brushed the quill, and she stared at the empty page, her mind racing. What could she even say? That she was abandoning them? That she no longer believed in the Imperium they served so loyally? The words felt impossible to write.
The sound of the door handle turning snapped her out of her thoughts. Xari spun around, her satchel half-packed, as the door creaked open.
Livia stood there, her figure illuminated by the faint glow of the lantern she carried. Her expression was calm, but her eyes told a different story—concern, sorrow, and a glimmer of understanding.
"Xari," Livia said softly, closing the door behind her. "I thought I heard something."
Xari's heart raced as she tried to think of an excuse, but the look on Livia's face stopped her. She knew.
Livia stepped closer, setting the lantern down on the desk. "You're leaving, aren't you?"
Xari swallowed hard, her hands tightening around the strap of her satchel. "I... I have to," she said, her voice trembling. "I can't stay here, Mama. Not after what happened."
Livia nodded slowly, her gaze falling to the half-packed bag. "I suspected this day might come," she said, her voice quiet. "You've always had a fire in you, Xari. And I knew there was no one that could stifle it- not even us."
"I can't be part of this," Xari said, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "The Imperium, the things Father believes in—it's not right. I can't pretend anymore."
Livia's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she looked as though she might argue. But instead, she reached out and placed a gentle hand on Xari's shoulder. "I understand," she said softly. "And I won't try to stop you."
Xari blinked, caught off guard. "You won't?"
Livia shook her head. "I've seen the questions in your eyes for years, Xari. The doubt. The way you look at the world around you and wonder why things are the way they are. I can't say I agree with all your choices, but I know this is something you need to do."
Tears welled in Xari's eyes, and she nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
Livia stepped back, her voice steady but tinged with a softness that Xari hadn't expected. "Be careful," she said. "The world outside these walls is harsh, and the people you choose to stand beside will test you in ways you can't imagine."
"I will," Xari whispered, her voice barely audible.
Livia nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from Xari's face. "Go," she said quietly. "Before your father or brothers wake."
Xari hesitated, her throat tightening. Then, suddenly, she threw herself into her mother's arms. The embrace was quick and fierce, Livia's breath hitching as she stumbled back a step. For a moment, time held still, the faint creak of the house the only sound. When they pulled away, Xari saw the unshed tears glistening in her mother's eyes.
The hug lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity—and not nearly long enough. When Xari finally pulled away, her throat was tight, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. She turned and climbed back out the window, her satchel slung over her shoulder.
As she slipped into the shadows, she glanced back just once.
Livia stood at the window, her face hidden in darkness, her figure still and unyielding.
As Xari vanished into the night, the weight of her past clung to the silence, even as the uncharted path ahead pulled her toward a destiny she could no longer deny.