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Silver Shade: The Beginning

Silver Shade: The Beginning

by Iris Valerius

ActionAdventureDungeon CoreFantasyHigh Fantasy

The chamber was a cathedral of cold stone and jagged geometry, designed to feel infinite, yet it felt claustrophobic under the weight of the Engine humming at its heart. The machine was a skeletal spire of brass and bone, groaning as it tore into the fabric of reality. Standing before it was a silhouette carved from the void itself—robes of obsidian silk that seemed to swallow the dim light of the room. He didn't just watch; he gloated, a manic, jagged smile fixed on the glass cylinder at the machine's core. The silence of the tomb was shattered by a sound that wasn't quite human. Inside the glass, a mage was being unmade. It wasn’t just a death; it was a haemorrhage of the soul. Raw, azure mana was being ripped from the victim's marrow, pulsing through the siphon's veins in agonizing surges. The mage’s screams were rhythmic, timed to the flickering of his fading life. The massive vault doors groaned open, spilling a sliver of hallway light into the gloom. A high-ranking noble of the Shadow Kingdom hurried in, his boots clicking frantically against the marble before he collapsed into a desperate kneel. "My King," he gasped, eyes averted from the dying man in the machine. "This... this is not the one. Another fraud. Another waste." The King’s smile didn't falter, but the air in the room grew ten degrees colder. From a corner where the shadows seemed unnaturally thick, a second figure materialized—a commander clad in midnight plate armor that rattled with every breath. "Your Majesty," the soldier barked, "my scouts have confirmed the signature. We found him. It is the Silver Shade of Aurelis. The identity is absolute. Does the Void Mage have your leave to begin the extraction?" The King finally turned. The manic light in his eyes settled into something far more dangerous: a calm, predatory focus. The screaming in the machine stopped abruptly as the victim finally went limp, discarded like a spent candle. "Yes," the King whispered, his voice a low velvet rasp that carried further than the screams. "But tell the Void Mage I want my Little Star brought to me intact. Let him hire a legion of mercenaries if he must—fill the roads with blood—but if he fails, I will not wait. I shall unleash a tide of shadow that will drown Aurelis until they have no choice but to beg me to take their precious adventurer. They wouldn't let a kingdom burn for the sake of one boy... would they?"

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