Nine #3
She squeezes her eyes shut, and a drop of sweat slides down her temple as a faint pulse of golden light shimmers beyond her fingertips.
“That’s it,” I encourage. “You’ve got it. Now, faster.”
She laughs, the sound rattled with nerves.
“I don’t see you channelling anything,” she taunts.
Her eyes light up with a smirk as I roll my eyes.
A shadow drifts along the floor and she pauses, her mouth shut, eyes full of worry. I turn, half expecting to see Kael, but it’s the other two Shadowborn: Nyxen and Vaelis. They walk in step, their black uniforms so stark and pristine they look like wounds against the polished floor.
“Mind if we join you?” Nyxen asks, though he is already plucking a sword from the weapons rack.
Nyxen is taller than Kael, broad-shouldered and pale enough that his dark eyes seem almost luminous.
Vaelis moves beside him with loose, unsettling grace, his attention drifting across the room like he’s listening to something none of us can hear.
Marissa steps close to me, gripping the back of my uniform.
I nod, taking a shallow breath. “I don’t see why not.”
“Excellent,” Nyxen says. “Luceris, you spar with me.”
I don’t want to. Every instinct in me wants to run instead. I nudge Marissa towards Vaelis and offer her a reassuring smile. I turn back to Nyxen and pick up a blade.
Nyxen fights with a discipline that borders on elegance—every step calculated, every swing of his sword efficient. He mirrors me, measuring my skill as we trade blows for a few minutes before he calls a halt.
He wipes his brow, but his eyes never leave mine. “You leave openings on purpose.”
I bite back an insult. “And why would I do that?”
He doesn’t answer, but he glances over at Marissa, who’s actually smiling as she spars with Vaelis.
“You protect her,” he says. “Even though you can’t save her. Why?”
I scoff before I can stop it. “Who says I can’t?”
He nods, then leans in closer, voice low. “It will be difficult to protect yourself if your focus is on the girl. You cannot both survive.”
“Who says I plan to survive?”
“Kael said you were different.”
My cheeks flush at the mention of his name. “Is that a bad thing?”
Nyxen shrugs.
“He sees something in you. I don’t know what. You seem perfectly ordinary to me. Weak, even.”
He studies me again, visibly unconvinced. “He gravitates towards you more than he should. And that makes me nervous.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Are you crazy? He beat the shit out of me not two days ago.”
Nyxen’s mouth quirks into a half-smile. “He also saved you.”
We switch partners, and I’m thankful. However, Vaelis’ fighting style is nothing like Nyxen’s—he feints and slides, darting in and out of my reach, eyes glittering with mischief. At one point, I blink, and he’s behind me, the point of his blade tickling my spine.
He leans close enough that his breath brushes my ear. “Not afraid of the dark, are you?”
I shake my head because it’s the truth. The darkness I fear lives inside people.
We take a break for water and Marissa perches on the bench beside me, breathing heavily as gulps down water.
Vaelis takes up a seat on my other side, cracking the knuckles of his long fingers. “Did you dream last night?” he asks.
“What?”
“Did you dream?” he repeats.
I swallow, remembering the voice from the dream, and the worsening cracks on the ceiling. “It’s mostly just voices saying things I don’t understand.”
He nods. “The Mother prefers dreams. We’re softer inside them.”
Marissa leans in, her voice just a whisper. “Is there a way to make them stop?” She visibly shudders. “Mine are scary.”
Vaelis’ lips part in a thin smile. “I wouldn't worry about your dreams. There are other things to be scared of here.”
“That’s not helpful,” Marissa groans.
“What things?” I ask, swallowing a breath.
“The Overseers,” he says. “I’ve spent a lifetime in the shadows, and those things are unnatural.”
I want to probe but Nyxen joins us, sprawling lazily on the floor. “Kael thinks we should keep an eye on you,” he says to me. “He says you are... valuable.”
“Wow,” I say, drawing out the sound. “What a compliment.”
Marissa interrupts before Nyxen can respond. “Are you two the Prince’s bodyguards or something?”
Vaelis’ eyes glimmer with something like pride. “Not exactly.”
Nyxen changes the subject. “The Shadow Dominion hasn’t seen a real sunrise in generations,” he says. “Most people there have forgotten the sky was ever anything but black.”
Marissa blinks. “That’s horrible. At least we have the Eternal Sun.”
“The world needs balance,” Vaelis says lightly. “Now every Dominion rots in its own way.”
We talk for a while after that, though mostly it’s Marissa asking questions while Nyxen and Vaelis indulge her curiosity.
Vaelis demonstrates how he can step from one shadow to another and it makes my skin crawl. I wonder if Kael can do it too.
“What happens if the Veins stop working?” Marissa asks. “That’s why the Rites exist, isn’t it?”
Vaelis’ voice is flat. “Who knows? It’s unfathomable. The Shadow Dominion worships the Umbral Vein.”
He sighs, deep and resigned. “I think the world is already ending. Slowly enough that people can pretend not to notice.”
I’m lost in thought, chasing a fractal of light around the floor with my eyes.
We separate as Nyxen and Vaelis get up to continue training together. Marissa and I stay seated on the bench, side by side in quiet contemplation, as the Dome starts to fill with more Offerings.
“Do you think what Vaelis said is true?” Marissa eventually asks, breaking the silence.
“I—I don’t know.”
“Well, it’s unlikely to concern us anyway,” she says, laughing it off.
I put my arm around her, and she doesn’t shake it off. “Don’t say that, Marissa. For one of us, it could.”
Watching the Dome fill around us, I realise that surviving the Blood Rites might only be the beginning.
The Dome is packed now.
Offerings from every Dominion are present, except the Fireborn.
Even the Overseers have made an appearance, more than I’ve ever seen, their blank, faceless forms floating through the crowds, humming with a kind of feverish energy that makes my skin itch.
The tension in the air reminds me of the moments before a storm breaks in the Light Dominion, when the pressure grows so heavy it feels impossible for the sky to hold it any longer.
The Waterborn are all together, eyes closed, heads bent in prayer. Callen watches over them from a bench at their rear. Alaris and the other Airborn are squabbling like teenagers with too much energy. Fen is tapping out some anxious rhythm with his feet as he watches the other two.
I don’t see Kael anywhere, and Nyxen and Vaelis are still training together.
An Overseer glides towards the centre of the Dome, raising its bony hands for silence, the tendrils of its robe flickering in a phantom breeze. The humming grows louder, vibrating through the floor.
But before the Overseer can speak there is an enormous crash.
Shadow detonates across the far wall and the lights flicker.
Kael tears himself out of the darkness. Bare-armed.
Bloody. Breathing hard. Nothing about him resembles composure anymore as his shadows drag behind him like something alive.
His hair hangs loose across his eyes, his mouth twisted into a snarl.
He doesn't even glance at the Overseer, just stalks forward, waiting.
Atheron and his Fireborn swagger into the Dome, slamming open the doors, with the reckless confidence of men who have never been forced to fear consequences. He says something to one of them, and they all laugh, rough cackles echoing. They head straight for Kael.
Kael, terrifying and unflinching, stares down Atheron with undisguised hatred.
Atheron doesn't flinch. He stands proud, arms folded, voice ringing out in the suspended silence.
“Careful, Prince,” Atheron says softly. “You’re slipping again.”
His eyes sweep the crowd, but no one dares utter a sound.
Kael doesn’t answer. I’m not sure he even can. He just stands there, trembling with barely contained rage. The shadows writhe around him, alive and restless. I can feel it from here, like ice-cold pinpricks on my skin.
Nyxen moves immediately, hand already on his blade.
Vaelis only watches Kael for half a second longer, expression tightening with something dangerously close to fear.
“Stay back!” Kael barks, his voice raw and broken.
It takes them a full second to obey.
Atheron laughs, slow and antagonising. “That’s right, pups. Back down. Next, you’ll be taking orders from the Prince’s bitch.”
He gestures at me, and I feel every eye in the room swing in my direction.
I want to run, but I stay rooted to the spot.
The tension continues to mount as the Overseers begin their song:
Bright Mother, see us. Bright Mother, claim us. Bright Mother, take what you need so the world may breathe.
Let the Veins be fed. Let the torment sleep.
I’ve never heard so much of their chant. It’s strangely beautiful—but the timing makes my blood boil.
Atheron doesn't wait any longer. He launches forward, flames already curling around his fists.
Kael meets him head-on, the shock of their collision sending a wave of flame and shadow across the floor.
They're evenly matched for a moment until the other two Fireborn move in.
They circle Kael in a practised pincer formation, both wielding swords wreathed in searing, orange flames.
Kael uses his shadows to absorb the first blows, but he’s on the defensive. Every movement is a block or a dodge. He’s incredibly strong, faster than anyone or anything I’ve ever seen, but even a Prince can’t defend forever.
Nyxen and Vaelis are itching to move. I can see the desperation in their faces, but their duty to their Prince keeps them bound to the spot.
I have no such duty.
I see my chance and take it, grabbing a sword from the nearest rack—immediately, I know it’s too heavy.
Atheron is the first to notice me as I sprint into the fray. He grins, eyes flashing with thinly-veiled contempt. “Come to play, little rabbit?”
“Don’t fucking call me that!”